《Sorry, The Only Power Left Is Alteration.》 Time Square Bus Lane Bass Line Static of a heavy rain buzzed outside of her window. Drops clanged and pattered against the metal fire escape as Circe laid sprawled across her bed. The phone on the desk lit with a notification. It was Saturday morning, almost ten. She turned around and peeked out the dirty window before pushing herself to sit up on her knees. The nightgown slipped over the thighs of her short and slender body. Hands ruffled her disheveled light brown hair as she yawned. One bare foot hit the old paneled floor next to her Garfield slippers. After her toes shuffled around gripping the floor she found the fuzz and slipped the foot inside. Dull green eyes brightened just slightly as they received a rubbing from the sides of her hands. Junk food wrappers, paper cups, straws, and sauce cups littered the top of her clothes drawers. A plastic tub with crusty dried BBQ sauce clicked against the floor as she struggled to open a broken drawer. Saturday outfits were stuffed inside, unfolded. Circe took out a pair of cargo shorts and loose pink polo that used to be a work shirt before she got a coffee stain on the back. After carefully pulling open the top drawer she found a pair of short white socks with a pink smiley print. Palms slapped into her face. She probably needed a shower. The nightgown arced gracefully into the air before landing on the bed. The bathroom was so small she could barely stand in front of the mirror to gargle and brush. The cracked handles of the shower squeaked when turned. The sound of water spraying echoed the sound of the rain from her bedroom window. A drop of water landed squarely on her nose and she wrinkled it in response. It came from the ceiling, another leak. Fingers swept through the falling water from the shower head and received an unwelcome chill. There was no hot water. Circe jumped in the cold shower with a squeal of protest. Not even three minutes later she was done with the most basic of cleaning she could manage, as she¡¯d not even bothered to wash or rinse her hair. As she got dressed in the outfit she¡¯d cobbled together, she kept glancing toward the stack of unpaid bills in the basket on the kitchen counter. Her phone buzzed with an unpaid rent notice. With a quick motion she scooped up the phone and dialed the Battery Park library. The automated voice menu was the first thing she heard. They didn¡¯t have that many employees and this was an employee number, right?! Perhaps she could play some music or do something on her laptop while she waited. Finally, after fifteen minutes of waiting and pressing menu options she heard that strong city accent of Kathy, her former coworker. ¡°Hello, this is Kathy, who¡¯s calling?¡± ¡°It¡¯s me... ummm... Circe Sheffield.¡± ¡°Oh, Mrs. Sheffield, oh hey, what can I do for you?¡± Circe swallowed, ¡°Umm, I¡¯ve been checking my bank account. My unused vacation pay hasn¡¯t been deposited yet and I was kind of wondering why. I gave the proper two week notice and I wo¡­¡± ¡°Wha! Ya want vacation pay. Sorry, but it¡¯s explicitly stated in the handbook that unused vacation isn¡¯t compensated. Didn¡¯t yuh read the handbook sweetie?¡± ¡°B-but I was told they needed me to be¡­¡± ¡°That¡¯s just the way it is, get a lawyer if yuh don¡¯t like it. Bye!¡± The phone clicked as the call ended. ¡°¡­at work and that they would make sure the unused vacation... was- paid.¡± Circe fell back on the bed. The part-time job she had picked up at Sub-Lane was not covering her expenses considering the rent, tax, electric, and gas, rate increase notices posted on her pinboard. She crawled back into bed and pulled the old tan quilt over herself. The clock ticked. The quilt fell over the side of the bed as she kicked it off. The Garfield slippers hit the refrigerator after she threw them. She clutched her glasses and her wallet. It was time to get her sneakers on and go for a walk, maybe she could think of some genius strategy to get her life back on track besides begging for yet another interview. The bumpy bus ride made her nauseous, nor did it help that somebody was screaming in the middle of the bus the entire trip and nobody did anything except yell at them to shut up, which only made the problem worse. Circe made her way off the bus near Time Square. She had her wallet, her phone, and enough money to park herself at the nearest Lucks Star and drown her sorrows in a cool iced cappuccino as she listened to the rain. She wondered if she¡¯d be locked out of her apartment when she got back. Circe leaned over the counter. For one entire year she had lived and worked in New York City. And now, she had no friends, no real job, no money, no savings, and no prospects. This city was just far too competitive and fast paced for her. Perhaps it was time to admit she was wrong, call her mom, and go back to Rutland Vermont. Her neatly cut fingernail tapped the screen of her phone as she considered it. She looked up the prices of haulers and grimaced. Perhaps there was a cheaper company. A notice popped up on her phone: Your payment is three days past due. To restore service please make your payment of 135.02 dollars to VeryHighZone via your preferred payment option. A late payment fee of 25.00 dollars has been added to your account. Circe stuffed the red cell phone back in her pocket. Now, she¡¯d have to borrow someone¡¯s phone to even call her mom. Two mocha iced cappuccinos later and she was out of cash. It was useless to try paying by credits cards, all three of which were at their maximum limit. She pulled out a book and started reading. She lost track of time. The good scene, the romantic scene where the hero was about to kiss the peasant girl was approaching when she felt a shake to her shoulders. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. ¡°Excuse me, you¡¯ve been sitting here for three hours,¡± the server said, ¡°Do you plan on buying anything. We have paying customers who need seats.¡± Circe shook her head slightly, ¡°Ah, I did buy drinks, three in fact!¡± The empty cup was still sitting across the small table from her book. Circe glanced at it. She was obviously a paying customer. ¡°That was three hours ago, if you¡¯re gonna keep taking up a seat at least order a scone or something.¡± They were always so polite to her here when she had money. Circe sighed, noticing that rain had stopped and that it was getting dark outside. It was best she got home anyway. Her bus transit card still worked. She could cry to her mom, admit defeat, and go back home to get her life sorted out for her. There was no prince charming in this city, no one like the heroes in her novels. The stifling humid air resisted entering her nose. She was near time square, perhaps she would walk around a little more. A crackle of soft electric burst through the air. There was a thumping bass beat from the buildings. Streets were disconcertingly empty. ¡°Hey you, fried eggs, you don¡¯t look so well! We been lookin fer ya, no payments been forthcoming fer a while now. What¡¯s goin on wit dat miss?¡± Circe turned around and saw a pot-bellied man wearing a track suit with a NY baseball team ball cap coming towards her. She ran. ¡°Hey, where you goin, I jus wanna talk business here!¡± He was surprisingly fast for a heavy guy. Circe ducked into an alley full of graffiti and construction frames. Her sneakers pushed against the uneven pavement as she panted. An aluminum frame smacked her shoulder as she took an uneven step. She swore she shook something loose on the platform. The red phone clattered out of her pocket unnoticed. ¡°The boss is gonna be pissed when I tell im you run away every time I try ta talk wit ya!¡± She continued to run to the other side of the alley as the big man jogged behind her until her bent over to pick up her phone. ¡°Ya dropped somepin! Hey! Get back here I said! Ya dropped somethin¡¯! Don¡¯t even think of going home till ya paid the money ya owe! We know where ya live!¡± The big man watched as her soft brown hair blew in the breeze under the street light before she turned the corner and disappeared. Circe panted as she headed for Time Square. She could wait around there until morning. If she went to the right place a guy might buy her a coffee in hopes of getting to know her better. Desperate times. What was she even thinking?! Nobody ever noticed her, she was short, flat chested, narrow hipped, pale, exhausted looking, and so unconditionally average that she didn¡¯t stand out to anyone exceptional. Only creeps and losers ever approached her. Her sneakers splashed a puddle as she continued to run. The buildings towered over her, words and talking faces demanded attention from the brilliantly lit screens. Dirt stained her shirt as she leaned against a telephone pole to catch her breath. There it was again, that thumping, banging, beating bass rhythm that connected with her heart. Her palm pressed against the pole as she looked back for the man in the track suit. She owed them a few thousand dollars, it wasn¡¯t that big of deal, they had no right to stalk her like this! But she wasn¡¯t being followed anymore. Time square was empty. There was a dull bass beat coming from the buildings and then, a laughter. Circe lifted her glasses and let them fall back down over the bridge of her nose. The bass beat from the buildings accelerated powerfully. Time square was empty. There were no people. Most disturbingly, there was no traffic. There was that blasting bass rhythm, as if all the buildings were speakers. She looked up at the screens, once constantly yammering their announcements and product placements. A bouncing line kept to the phonk rhythm the buildings emanated. ¡°What was in that iced cappuccino?¡± Circe muttered. Her sneakers picked up a pace to the rhythm as she power walked to the center of Time Square. A sickly-sweet voice spoke in another language over the dropping bass lines. The music pounded in her head. When she looked behind her there was still nobody. The big man was nowhere to be seen. Circe leaned into another pole and peeked out towards the screens that dominated the famous square. She could hear some strange lyrics amidst the music: It is over pretty face. Gotta Spy Gotta Sigh Mogg-dell Beef Ear Pie! Mogg-dell Beef Ear Pie! Gonna Make You Cry. My Sanity Hold Inside, Mogg-dell Beef Ear Pie! Annnnnnd! Azoria! Fierce winds blew through the street to push her shirt and cargo shorts against her slender frame as her hair lifted. A hand in front of her face shielded her eyes and protected her wire frame glasses. Had she stumbled across some kind of event, a concert that she hadn¡¯t heard anything about? The screen brightened and what appeared to be a woman dominated it. That wasn¡¯t entirely correct. She was on every screen. Her legs and thighs on the bottom screen, her torso on the middle, and her head at the uppermost screens. This woman wasn¡¯t any person or character she recognized. There was a booming high-pitched laugh from the speakers. The visage on the tall buildings had long flowing silver hair. Her eyes were redder than fire and bright. Of course, she was impossibly well put together with curvy hips and pert breasts wrapped in black leather. If there was an event, why was nobody else around? It was possible that the police had blocked off traffic but she¡¯d seen no evidence of this earlier. Circe fought against the warm dry wind blowing from the screens as she approached. A black spaded tail swayed behind the Rosey skinned succubus as she shifted her hips. The visage extended her arms outside the screens as the lines defining fingers and palms displayed on the screens at the side of the road. Circe stumbled towards the playful smile of the girl on the giant screen. A booming playful squeaky voice contrasted the bass notes pouring from the buildings. Even the stars above seemed unnecessarily bright as it spoke. "Hi! Wanna come to my world and play a power progression game!? I promise it¡¯s gonna be so much fun you might even die twice!" ¡°What are you!?¡± Circe yelled as she got her footing in the empty road. ¡°I¡¯m the knight in shining armor you¡¯ve been waiting for silly! I¡¯m giving you a second chance to be somebody!¡± she said, then she made a lewd face as the arms withdrew back to the central screens, ¡°Oh, look at the time!¡± The spade tipped tail coiled around the torso of the woman on the screen, suggestively sliding around her body until it reached her pale violet lips. The woman let it rub her mouth and cheek as if it was caressing her. Circe felt another burst of warm wind as she stepped forward a bit more into the empty street. ¡°Your bus is here,¡± the succubus giggled. The screen returned to an advertisement for jeans as the bass line faded. The walks had people again. There was no sign of the weird advertisement succubus girl or the bass beats of the concert. Perhaps it had all just been a stress induced hallucination? The normal sounds of traffic returned, like a taxi whizzing right by her as she stood in the center of the bus lane. MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM! Circe tried to turn around, but the bus slammed into her at the maximum allowed speed before she could finish. She could hear the crunches of her spine and an old woman screaming. As her vision smashed together, the last thing she saw was an airborne tooth in front of her eyes. 1. A Gentle Hell The next thing she heard was coughing. It was her cough! What happened!? Had she survived? She thrust her torso with a deep gasping panicked breath. Glasses bounced on her thin nose. Knees buckled as she stood up to brush off her cargo shorts. Bent over posture meant she was looking at the floor. A smooth dull gray polished marble style finish surrounded her feet. Circe looked to her lower left, then to her lower right, but she couldn¡¯t see tile lines. Panic returned as Circe began to forcefully pat her clothes and touch her face. Slender fingers tugged at her short brown hair. The forefinger brushed over her front teeth. A bit of scum was on the surface but they weren¡¯t missing. ¡°I died right,¡± she muttered to herself, ¡°That weird girl on the television screens tricked me and I got hit by a bus, right?¡± Her head pounded so badly that she needed to grasp it. It felt like she had been hit by a bus. Slowly, the pain and throbbing subsided as if someone was turning down the bass line in her head. ¡°C¡¯mon, pull yourself out of it, chin up, posture check, right?¡± Circe clasped her hands over her mouth. Suddenly the sounds coming out were strange, foreign to her. Everything she said was perfectly understood, but she wasn¡¯t speaking English! ¡°What the heck is going on?¡± she muttered She covered her mouth again. This was going to take some getting used to. The intonation and voice structure remained the same though, even though the sound patterns were not familiar. The interior of a massive cave-like structure spread before her. The ceiling twinkled with phosphorescence. The walls glowed with little twinkling bits as well, but she was near the center of the cavern which stretched a difficult distance to run in all directions. There were people! Lots of them stood about bickering with one another or looking just as confused and lost as her. She glanced left, then right. The greater portion of the crowd assembled around the walls, probably looking for an escape. Circe squinted, lifted her glasses, and rubbed her eyes. The cavern absorbed most of the sound of conversations closer to the walls. Circe found herself mostly alone and ignored. ¡°Last one to take action as always, right?¡± Palms smacked against her cheeks. Perhaps taking stock of her situation would prove a diversion. Well, the place looked safe enough, for now. The air had a dryness to it and the temperature struck a balance between too hot and too cold. That said, food and water might prove an issue. ¡°Cannibalism!¡± she gasped, tugging at her hair, ¡°I don¡¯t want to die like that, just let me get hit by the bus. Oh heck, oh heck, what am I going to do!? No, no, just calm down, don¡¯t panic. You¡¯ve been in worse situations before. You¡¯ve been chased by loan sharks that want to break both your legs. At the very least you¡¯ve escaped from that problem. And it¡¯s never wise to jump to conclusions, right? That¡¯s what mom always says.¡± Circe pushed her palms against her ears. A presence in this room had great power. It flew about on little wings. There was enough insanity to drive her mad. But then the feeling passed and Circe felt okay. ¡°Eeeey! Fried eggs, fancy meetin¡¯ yuh here!¡± said the man with the pot gut who had been wearing the track suit from earlier. He waved to her and she couldn¡¯t spot a hiding place, not even a column to scoot behind! So Circe decided to stiffen her pose and face danger straight on. ¡°I don¡¯t have any money!¡± she found herself screaming at the top of her lungs, ¡°I can¡¯t pa-¡± The big guy stopped an blink, the rubbed the back of his head, ¡°Yeah, sorry about dat. But your duh only guy I know in this crackerjack box. So I figured, yuh know, we could help each other out all nice and easy like. And maybe, yuh know, we can fuggeda about dat money yuh owe the boss. I¡¯ll take duh hit. No worries.¡± This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Circe blinked. ¡°Really, you¡¯ll just let it go, and all I have to do is get us out of here!?¡± ¡°Yah, somepin like that, I don¡¯t like caves. They give me duh heebie jeebies. True story, my old woman left me in a cave once, I had tuh climb through-¡± Circe put her hand up, ¡°Talk to the hand Alf, because the face don¡¯t care.¡± ¡°Right, right, back to business,¡± he said, ¡°You¡¯re one of them booky types, so I figure, Fried Eggs gotta know something bout it. Or at least she¡¯s gonna catch on real fast like. So have yuh figured anything out yet?¡± ¡°I was trying to figure it out when you scared me half to death,¡± Circe said, feeling more at ease, ¡°And how can I even trust you, you were trying to break my legs before I got hit by that bus!?¡± ¡°Woah, woah, woah, Fried Eggs, yuh gonna go and hurt my feel-¡± Circe put her had up. Alf stood at six feet and a few inches to spare, so getting a hand rudely in front of his face meant reaching up and even arcing her feet. ¡°My name is Circe, call me that again and the deal is off. Plus, you will be removed from my Chaos-horde server.¡± ¡°Fine, fine, no more fried eggies. Don¡¯t wanna hurt yer fee-fees,¡± he huffed, ¡°Fine, Circe it is, but yuh have-ta start calling me Alfredo. I ain''t some little brown furry alien.¡± Circe puffed out her cheeks before releasing a sigh, ¡°First of all let¡¯s take stock of the situation,¡± ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s do that, but don¡¯t yuh think maybe we should be checkin¡¯ the walls wit duh main group?¡± A petite finger wagged in his face, ¡°I find that the best thing to do is in this sort of the situation is to keep away from the main crowd. Too many things can go wrong.¡± ¡°I see, that¡¯s why you¡¯re the brains of this operation. I woulda never thunk it like that.¡± A curious gaze at his grizzled face indicated she didn¡¯t know whether the big guy was being serious or sarcastic. Circe pulled at her clothes and dusted. ¡°As far as supplies go, I only have the clothes I was wearing and there is nothing in my pockets.¡± Alfredo pulled a device out of his track suit, ¡°Well, this is yours, yuh dropped it when I was tryin¡¯ to have a word wit yuh.¡± A quick hand swiped the red phone with a now cracked screen from his greasy palm. Gross, now there was fat old guy all over her phone. The screen and case rubbed against her shirt, that would have to do for now. Fingers tapped on the screen and unlocked it. ¡°Thanks,¡± she said, ¡°No signal, no internet. Not that it matters because they cut me off anyway. I''ll try to save the battery.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t pay yer phone bill either, guess that figures. For a smart one yuh sure are bad wit money. I¡¯m gonna be tourin'' the Hudson in cement shoes cause of my soft heart.¡± ¡°Are you done with the lecture? Could you tell me what happened to you before you found yourself here, with me?¡± ¡°Well, yuh see, so I was tryin'' tuh talk tuh yuh about that money yuh owe me when yuh turned the corner and everything became all psychedelic like. Then this awful music started playing. But here¡¯s the best part, there wuz a beautiful girl in leather wit duh best set of garbanzos yuh ever seen. We¡¯re talking some-¡± ¡°Skip that part, what did she say to you and what happened afterwards?¡± ¡°Okay, ummm, well, she wuz all over me, of course, an asked me if I wanted tuh play a game. I wasn¡¯t about tuh turn er down either. Then she told me tuh look up toward the stars. Next thing I know, duh scaffolding shook loose an a bolt fastener smacks my skull! Come tuh think of it, probly went clean through my head. Guess this means we¡¯re dead, aight?¡± ¡°I very much think we might be dead,¡± Circe said as she sat down with her legs crossed. ¡°Wuhtcha doin?¡± Alfredo asked. ¡°The only thing we can do, patiently wait for our judgement.¡± Alfredo nodded and sat down beside her. He gave a sigh, the let his belly push out over his lap. He reached for his knees, but it proved a bit of a struggle. A crack issued forth from his back as he tried to stretch. Circe remained motionless, kept her hands on her knees, and breathed calmly. Tears began to run down her cheeks. Then the sniffling started. It looked like she was ready to start bawling. ¡°Aww, hey, don¡¯t cry now,¡± ¡°The last thing you tell someone who is crying is to stop crying!¡± Circe said. Alfredo frowned, looked away for a moment, tried to stretch some more, ¡°Well, if it makes yuh feel any better. We won¡¯t have tuh worry about all that debt anymore.¡± ¡°I was going to call my mom,¡± Circe wiped tears from her eyes, ¡°We haven¡¯t spoken in three months. I was going to apologize and go back to Vermont. I was going to set things right and pay everything off, even if it meant working three jobs that I hate and never reading a book again.¡± ¡°I get makin'' good wit yer old woman, but duh rest sounds like givin'' up on yer dream tuh me,¡± ¡°What would a fat, ugly, balding, old man with a nose the size of Yonkers know about dreams!?¡± Alfredo didn¡¯t say anything as his eyes watered up like a baby. ¡°Ain''t much at all I guess,¡± he said quietly, ¡°Ain''t much.¡± 2. Careful What You Wish For They sat quietly for half an hour. Just as Circe had predicted, the others were starting to panic. Bickering could be heard closer to the wall and in some directions the tension had produced minor scuffles. She scowled at Alfredo. The old man seemed pitiful now, just sitting quietly as if her words had broken him. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Circe said. He pressed his hands into the ground beside his thighs. Here she was, trapped in a big cave with almost a thousand people and the only person who even bothered to notice her was the Buddha of Yonkers. Though he didn¡¯t seem too contemplative or enlightened, with the exception of the beer gut, he made a terrible Buddha. ¡°It¡¯s aight,¡± said the old man, ¡°Not like yuh said anything ain''t duh truth.¡± An Asian man in a grey suit approached them, ¡°Hey, the others are trying to find a way out of here. Don¡¯t you think it would be a good idea to try and help?¡± Circe looked up, asked, ¡°You honestly think there¡¯s an escape from hell?¡± ¡°You can¡¯t know that, if this was hell there would be fire.¡± ¡°May I ask how you got here?¡± The man breathed and closed his eyes as if the question had become stale. But then he shrugged and began talking. ¡°A beautiful woman in a lovely black dress was standing on the other platform. She looked like a game character. I thought perhaps she was cosplaying. She said she was lonely and wanted to play a game. We talked, but when she vanished, I was standing out leaning over the edge of the tracks. Haven¡¯t you spoken to any one, they all have this in common. That horned girl appearing before something terrible happens.¡± Circe nodded, ¡°Thanks for sharing. You should probably conserve your energy. Something is bound to happen eventually.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not going to help,¡± the man sighed, ¡°I was offering you two a chance to join my group. But if you¡¯re going to sit here and sulk than you can just rot for all I care.¡± The man walked away as if from a failed business dealing. Circe leaned toward Alfredo and whispered. ¡°He¡¯ll be the first one to try and kill somebody when everybody gets hungry.¡± Alfredo shifted in his spot; his legs felt a little numb. He reached into his pocket an pulled out a broken and disheveled peanut based candy bar still in the wrapper. ¡°Yuh allergic tuh nuts?¡± ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean!?¡± ¡°Whadda yuh think it¡¯s supposed to mean, are yuh allergic tuh ''em or not?¡± ¡°No, why?¡± He tossed her the bar. Being what it was, it had a fair amount of protein and calories. She looked at it, but immediately understood the gesture. ¡°Don¡¯t be wavin¡¯ it around all showy like now!¡± Alfredo snapped, ¡°Put it in yer pocket.¡± She did as he instructed, asked, ¡°But why would you give me this?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s face it, I¡¯m old, ugly, out of shape. Duh only thing I got going for me is I got a bit of muscle on these old legs an¡¯ arms of mine. A guy like me, yuh gotta admit, if it''s a skill game I¡¯m gonna be duh first one tuh go. Cuz I ain¡¯t got smarts ''cept the street kind. If it''s a hunger game, well, then I got a bit of insulation to eat through before I keel over. But you already look like yer in need of a few big home-cooked meals.¡± This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Pantry has been empty lately,¡± she admitted, ¡°Too stressed to eat.¡± ¡°I¡¯m too stressed not tuh eat. I¡¯d give my left arm for a ramen burger right abou- don¡¯t even think about givin'' that back tuh me. I¡¯m allergic tuh peanuts.¡± ¡°Goodwill gesture accepted,¡± Circe said. Circe continued to observe. As always, she remained alone when everyone else formed factions. She pulled her knees up and rested her chin on them. For a moment she glared toward Alfredo. Her teeth pushed down against each other as she considered him while he stared at the floor. It had been a long day. She had died from being hit by a bus and now the cappuccinos were wearing off. There were no bathrooms here come to think of it. She looked away from Alfredo to scan the crowd a little better, which forced her to look at other people. A baseball player stood nearby, at least she figured that from the uniform and the helmet. Plus, he was armed with a baseball bat. She couldn¡¯t tell which league because she didn¡¯t follow baseball. He was really tall, dark, and handsome type too, the kind that never asked for her number unless he wanted something on the first date. From the narrowness of his eyes and the way his head was darting about, she decided she didn¡¯t want to stare too much longer. A police officer stood directed a small group. This man had all his police gear, gun, stun baton, probably pepper spray, and a radio. If there was anyone to make friends with, it was probably him. The Japanese business man was being really friendly. He talked to the officer, who nodded disinterestedly while directing his faction into a square formation. Come to think of it, they all had the same language here. Circe tried to see if there was anything on his vest indicating his department but he was too far away and the angle wasn¡¯t good enough. A group of three woman squabbled amongst themselves behind her. Three empty pop bottles were on the ground. She could hear them complain about being hungry and needing to use a bathroom. The last group that wasn¡¯t hugging the walls and was close enough to see was a gang of five teenage boys who had decided to team up. This group probably had the worst intentions. They kept walking around and eyeing the women who were complaining. Though they seemed wary of Alfredo for now. If the game was about not becoming meat, who could she trust? The betting money seemed to be with the police officer but he already had enough sycophants and wouldn¡¯t need dead weight. The sound of men at each other screaming came from around the left wall. Circe tilted her head and peered the distance but there was too much of a crowd to see what was going on. It sounded like a big fight, but it ended quickly. As the crowd dispersed, she saw a pool of blood and two bodies being drug from it. She couldn¡¯t see the weapon. ¡°From duh amount of blood, looks like some psycho went crazy wit a knife.¡± ¡°There¡¯s no way to cook the meat in here, what a waste,¡± Circe said. Alfredo shuddered, ¡°Ain¡¯t nobody eatin'' another person while I¡¯m around.¡± ¡°Have you considered that this is probably a survival game, we¡¯re trapped in here for a reason. If we don¡¯t do whatever it takes, we¡¯re gonna die again, and this time it won¡¯t be fast!¡± ¡°Yeah, you do you, like I said, I gotta bit of insulation tuh burn through.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m not touching it raw or spoiled, so if we don¡¯t have a butcher¡­¡± An obese man parted the crowd as he stepped in the congealing pool. This was the biggest man there, rolls of flesh pressed from behind his shirt, hypnotically jiggling rolls of skin hung from his arm. A bloody apron barely restrained the massive belly. He seemed a bit taller than the tallest near him. His back and legs jiggled with each step. The flesh on his arms hung like a skin flag as he picked up the corpse of a lanky man. Blood drained from the corpse as the obese butcher raised his cleaver and bought it down across the belly to disembowel it. Innards spilled into the pool of blood on the floor. The butcher used his cleaver to precisely separate anything that could spoil the meat from the body. The people who had been watching the fight dispersed and it became quiet as some attention focused on the butcher¡¯s work while others choose to look or go away. Circe gasped as Alfredo turned a shade more violet. Even though this was happening toward the wall, Circe¡¯s eyes went wide and she turned pale. The butcher began work to separate the limbs. Circe couldn¡¯t look away but her nails clutched deeply enough into her face to leave marks as she stared through a cage of fingers. ¡°Look away, don¡¯t yuh dare throw up! This is duh sorta thing people do when their backs against the wall. Yuh talk a big game, but can yuh live with yerself if yuh do such a thing?" A social dynamic was already forming in the cave and the two of them were decidedly outside of it. They had wasted time sitting, talking, and staring for who knows how long. Circe looked dark around the eyes and her posture drooped. She felt faint. ¡°Get some sleep. I won¡¯t let anybody mess with yuh. Yuh can keep watch for me after yuh wake up.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t, my heart won¡¯t stop pounding,¡± He looked around, then he took off his jacket and threw it to her. It smelt of old man, cheesesteak, and cheap beer. It didn¡¯t smell like smoke though, that would have been a deal breaker. She balled it up and used it as a pillow. It was certainly better than nothing. ¡°We¡¯re both going to die twice anyway, aren¡¯t we,¡± she said. ¡°Yeah, looks like it toots.¡± 3. Bad Gifts Circe did not sleep soundly. Thoughts of her apartment, her neglected bills, the library operating without her, her favorite seat at the Lucks Star occupied by someone else became so vivid in her mind it was as if she was there. Yellow tape surrounded the scene of the accident. A chalk outline drawn where her body had landed. Thick tire tread patterns marked the asphalt past the head of the outline. Next came a hall, which was odd as Circe had never been here before. She didn¡¯t see anything but she heard a voice from behind double doors. She pushed to open them, but phased straight though them instead. Her attention immediately went to a tall, dark, and handsome New York City police detective in a formal suit and police trench coat. ¡°Maybe you don¡¯t want to do this?¡± he said. ¡°Mom!?¡± Circe gasped, ¡°Mom, I wanted to talk to you so badly. I¡¯m sorry, okay. I messed up, I was just angry because I messed up. Mom! Listen to me! I don¡¯t hate you! I love you!¡± No reaction. A middle-aged woman in glasses with light brown hair matched the height of the NYPD officer. She had sharp hazel eyes lined by stress wrinkles and her pale lips pressed into a worried frown. A classy tan business dress hung against her slender frame. A neckless of imitation pearls complemented the outfit. ¡°I want this investigated fully; I know my child. Sure, she was going through a bad time. But she¡¯s a Sheffield through and through. She¡¯d never... I¡¯m not going to even say it- such a thought would never cross her mind! She¡¯s stubborn as a mule and not the brightest, but she never gives up. And besides, why would somebody be chasing her if I was making payments to her debt collectors.¡± ¡°Mam, I¡¯m sorry to say again that you were being scammed.¡± Another officer stood behind her, also a good-looking grizzled guy with a black faded hair cut in business casual. They waited for a staff in blue scrubs to come and open the mortuary cabinet and slide out a thick tray with a long black zippered bag on it. Mrs. Sheffield grabbed at her hair with one hand and her pearl necklace with the other. ¡°I want to know the truth,¡± The truth opened with the sound of a zipper sliding down a bag. Circe put a hand to her mouth when she saw the body that used to be her. It didn¡¯t have a face anymore and from the neck down were deep tire impressions from where the bus rolled over it. ¡°Why would you even show this too her!?¡± Circe screamed. Nobody heard her. She could hear Azoria giggling. But she looked in every direction and saw nobody. Circe lifted a hand and tried to rest it against her mother¡¯s back as the woman stood frozen in place. She had to hold it, there was no ability to make human contact. Yet Circe could feel a deep welling grief starting to bubble to the surface as her mother shook. ¡°Can you identify the body?¡± There was a deep breath, a quivering shallow breath, and then warm hands clasping around cold discolored hand. Circe could feel the warmth and began to cry. ¡°No... my- my baby!¡± her mother cried with a broken voice. The two officers looked at each other as the woman¡¯s tears became thicker and her face turned red. ¡°Not like this, never like this, you¡¯d never,¡± she cried, rubbing warmth into the cold stiff hand, ¡°My strong-willed precious baby... not like this... you d-don¡¯t deserve this. I sh-sh-s-should¡¯ve come sooner. My baby! No...¡± The two officers nodded at one another. The handsome officer gently touched her shoulder as the woman cried, tears staining her make-up as they left trails. Snot pushed down her lip and collected over her chin. The woman''s face turned bright red as she clutched a lifeless hand. ¡°Mam, your husband is waiting in the waiting room. Why don¡¯t you come along with us. She wouldn¡¯t want to see you like this anyway.¡± This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The woman clutched the discolored hand all the tighter and pushed her forehead to it. Imitation pearls scattered across the floor of the hospital mortuary. ¡°Shut up!¡± she screamed, ¡°I just want one minute. One minute to say goodbye to my little girl!¡± A minute passed in total silence but for the sobs of a mother. Circe felt a tightness in her chest as she heard another giggle. But scanning the room revealed no extra presence. ¡°This awful, disgusting filthy city. This putrid disgusting hell hole of a city. This miserable dirt pile of a city. I knew it was a mistake, but if I would¡¯ve known I would have never... I... I¡¯m so- so sorry. Mommy always loves you sweety. Mommy is going to bring you home now, okay?¡± The woman reached up to touch what was left of a cheek, then lifted the hand and gave it a quick kiss. The officers gave the nod and the staff in scrubs zipped up the bag. The sliding tray slid back in place with a bang and a click, and the door slammed shut with a cold metal sound. Circe¡¯s mother collapsed on her knees, then her hands went to the floor and clutched a pearl as she bawled. Circe knelt next to her, made a fist and then phased inside her. ¡°I¡¯m sorry mom. I wasn¡¯t paying attention. You know me. I love you. I love you more than anybody else in the world. You¡¯ll always be the best in my heart. Please look after Dad, okay?¡± Circe felt herself being pushed out. Time up. She phased next to her mother, who wiped her eyes and looking oddly comforted as the detectives helped her get to her unsteady feet. Her father slept crouched over in a waiting room chair with his head hunched down. He looked older, more wrinkled, more haggard, than she had ever remembered. Hair had become thinner and grayer too. The giggling became louder. There wasn¡¯t much time. She phased inside his dream. There he stood at a work bench near the garage, working on a bird house. It was so him. Circe smiled. Her form in this dream still wore the same clothes from when she died. Leaves blew in the wind as the hills had turned glorious shades of orange, red, and yellow. Circe took a step forward. ¡°Dad?¡± He turned around, ¡°Circe, is that you! You¡¯re alive after all!¡± She approached closer, hugging him. ¡°I knew this had to be a big mistake, one big mistake. You don¡¯t even know how much your mother and I miss you!¡± She hugged him tighter, her chest heaving. A strong hand went through her hair to comfort her one last time. ¡°I don¡¯t have much time, Dad. Thanks for buying me books. Thanks for teaching me to make birdhouses. I love you. Take care of Mom, okay?¡± ¡°Wait, what!¡± he said, voice panicked, ¡°Don¡¯t go! Please...¡± His chest shuddered as he clutched her tightly, looked down with tearful eyes, and finally nodded before gently releasing her. He forced himself to smile as she became nothing more than a collection of colorful leaves swirling in the wind. ----- The vision dissipated. The sun shone harshly on the streets of Time Square below. Circe found herself standing alone on a platform supporting the giant screen. A warm wind blew against her clothes as her knees buckled and she screamed. Tears flew from her eyes and ran down cheeks into her polo shirt. And then came something warm, a body so warm that it almost burned her. The tears evaporated in the dry hellish heat. A spaded tail waved in front of Circe¡¯s eyes. Hot hands pushed the gap between Circe¡¯s torso and arms to wrap her chest. A cute high-pitched giggle assaulted her ear and Circe felt like she was about to throw up. ¡°Are you having fun?¡± Azoria asked. Those hands pushed against the cloth over her chest and reached to lock her slender shoulders. The tip of the spaded tail pushed the flesh near Circe¡¯s eye and captured a tear as if drinking it. ¡°You make good use of bad gifts. I¡¯m so impressed I can hardly hold back. This vision was meant to break you. You¡¯re strong.¡± ¡°What do you want from me?¡± Azoria giggled, reached across Circe¡¯s shoulder, and gave her a lingering kiss on the cheek. ¡°This is a one time generosity. You¡¯ll never be coming back to this world again, so win my game and maybe find out, cutie-pie.¡± The tail unwound itself and Azoria let go before giving Circe¡¯s back a push so that she tumbled off the platform face first toward the pavement. Before her face could slam the ground, she shot upright from Alfredo¡¯s jacket and gasped hard, barely able to breathe. Sweat dripped from her forehead. She checked her shorts, which were thankfully still dry. Her head hurt; she felt a little dehydrated from crying in her sleep. ¡°You good?¡± Alfredo asked, ¡°Didn¡¯t wanna wake yuh. Far be it from me tuh tell yuh tuh stop cryin.¡± She wasn¡¯t sure how long she¡¯d been asleep so she rubbed her eyes. Crusts had filled the corner pockets and Alfredo¡¯s jacket was wet with tears and snot. ¡°Dreamin'' ''bout yer folks?¡± Circe nodded, sniffed, ¡°I¡¯m never going to see them again, so I guess I owe that thing one, just one. One bad gift deserves another.¡± Mogg-del Beef Ear Pie swooped into the cave with gleeful roar, "How you doing everybody!" it yelled at the top of its booming voice. Suddenly there was a beefy thick bull with tiny little wings flying above the occupants of the cave. The bull had brown fur, a long tail, strong looking hooves, and an intimidating face that was somehow also kind. It was flying in circles as loud bass phonk music played from every side of the cave. The people close to the walls began to crowd the center. The front wall of the cave moved down. The top half parted as if it were a curtain to reveal an empty stage that lowered, yet remained too high for the audience to climb on. ¡°I¡¯m Mogg-del Beef Ear Pie!¡± the flying bull yelled as it did twirls in the air, ¡°It¡¯s time for everyone to see their stats!¡± 4. Staring Contest A rumbling echoed through the cave as the stage set itself several meters above the audience. Polished walnut floors and red, yellow, and blue curtains provided some visual relief from the constant florescent lighting that amplified the gray stone walls and polished floors of the big cave. There was no sign of a sound system or speakers, yet the voice of the giant flying bull could be heard clearly and evenly by everyone. It spoke into their being. The succubus graced the stage from an opening in the curtains and swayed as she walked to the podium. Her tail moved from side to side like a raised pendulum. Reddish black horns gleamed brilliantly in the light to complement her silver-white hair. She wore a black sleeveless evening dress with three-inch heels. Bright red eyes glowed as she put her hands on the podium and surveyed the audience. A smile slowly contorted as it grew upon her face. The bull swoped from the air to settle next to her and receive a head pat, which made it start to dance. It shuffled around in a circle while waving its long tail. Hooves left the floor as it hopped up and down while turning, mouth moving as if quietly saying something until it settled down and faced the audience. People began to approach the stage, yet as Alfredo went to move forward Circe put an arm out to indicate they should stay toward the center of the cave, which was still the least crowded despite people moving away from the walls. ¡°Hi everyone!¡± Azoria shouted as she spread her hands while holding them in the air ¡°You killed me!¡± someone shouted. Azoria smiled, waving her hands, "No hard feelings I hope!" Several other people also shouted; a small group had the confidence to level a chorus of boos at the duo. Neither of the two entities reacted. ¡°Kill is such a strong word,¡± Azoria said, waving her right hand about, ¡°Besides, if I really killed you, you wouldn¡¯t be saying anything about it.¡± She leaned over the podium. The spaded tail raised above her head. Ears twitched. Eyes glowed a bright red that cut through the strong lighting of the cave. ¡°Do you want me to kill you? I can kill all of you right now. Effortlessly.¡± Lips curled into a huge smile once again as a wave of power pushed forth from the stage like a hot wind. Heckling ceased as those near the stage became motionless before looking at each other to make sure they were still alive. Azoria looked bored. ¡°Okay, moving on. This is my world. I am what you would call the Demon Lord. Your job, pitiful humans that you are, is to be my champions. This world has been a miserable pile of goodie, goodie, sweetness and love for far too long because I''ve been too lazy to care. So, you¡¯re all going to help me conquer, corrupt, and destroy it the fun way!¡± A slightly overweight woman with dark floral tattoos on her arms separated herself from the rest of the audience. She was dressed in a polo shirt and khaki dress pants. Black curly hair clung to her scalp but was cut in a close fade at the side. Arms folded in front of her shoulders as she stared up at the succubus defiantly. ¡°Let me get this straight,¡± she said, voice clear and loud, ¡°You tricked us, got us all killed, stuck us in a cave for a whole day with no idea what¡¯s going on, let people kill each other, and now you want us to bow down like we owe you something because you¡¯re going to give us powers. I don¡¯t think so.¡± ¡°Oh look, if it isn¡¯t Ebony Rhodes the paladin,¡± Azoria said, ¡°Paladins- pffftt- there¡¯s always about ten or so and you¡¯re always so easy to spot the second you open your mouths.¡± ¡°That¡¯s my name, you obviously know all our names. You¡¯re the one that killed us. Well, I don¡¯t care what you do to me. I¡¯m not helping you do anything, period. In fact, I''m going to get stronger and take you down!¡± Azoria smiled at the challenge, eyes glowing as she stared at the paladin and the paladin stared back without flinching. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit then,¡± Azoria said, ¡°Do as you like. I¡¯m not going to do anything to you unless you ask for it. It¡¯s not like I need any of you to make this world mine. If you wish to oppose me, that¡¯s your choice. It¡¯s all part of the fun! Though, you will have to survive the tutorial.¡± The bull had wandered to the back of the stage where it chewed on the curtains. ¡°Mogg-dell, those curtains are expensive,¡± Azoria snapped, ¡°Get over here. Our subjects have questions and we have a poll to conduct.¡± The giant bull hopped back toward the front of the stage. It stared outwards blankly as its jaw hung open. No one really dared to look at it for too long. When Circe and Alfredo examined it, even from afar, they felt a disturbing presence weigh on their minds and quickly forced themselves to look away. Nobody in the cave except for Azoria wanted to acknowledge the existence of the giant talking bull. ¡°Okay, first order of business,¡± Azoria said, ¡°Each and every one of you has a starting stat pool loosely based off of the experiences in your previous life. These stats are non-negotiable, if you want to improve them use skills and level up if you can. In order to access your stats, use the index skill. You¡¯ll see a player index; you can look up the stats of yourself or any other player.¡± A tall man in a long black coat approached the stage. A bandana held dark curly hair that sought to escape into a plume. Dark sunglasses rested on the bridge of his nose as he chewed bubble gum. He approached the stage and stared down the bull, lowering his sunglasses to meet it eye to eye. ¡°I don¡¯t need stats to defeat you or your pet. I¡¯m trained in the way of the sword,¡± The katana became unsheathed as the tall man held the hilt with both hands. The display caught Mogg-dell¡¯s interest, as the bull turned its head slightly and stared, eye to eye. ¡°I¡¯d break eye contact with it if I were you, just saying,¡± Azoria warned. Many people focused on the staring contest near the stage while others checked their stats. Circe told Alfredo to check his stats if he could. She focused on checking her own by pulling up a holographic looking screen in front of her face. Circe Oratia Sheffield Divergent Bookworm
Skill Description
Alteration Novice 01 Can change coloration of another subject¡¯s hair, skin, eyes, or nails once daily. Must make physical contact with target for one minute to take effect. The change will register over the period of an hour or longer depending on mana consumed.
Curse Description
Stat Locked Can not gain experience. Can not gain stat points beyond initial levels in the following categories: Strength, Toughness, Stamina, Speed, Agility, Magic, Spirit, and Luck
Vital Statistics # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat #
Perception 33 Sight 23 Hearing 93 Touch 51 Awareness 23 Spiritual 97 Nil Nil
Strength 01 Arms 01 Legs 01 Torso 01 Back 01 Grip 01 Nil Nil
Toughness 01 Blunt 01 Slice 01 Pressure 01 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Stamina 40 Heart 52 Lungs 17 Arms 04 Legs 14 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Speed 36 Swim 01 Swing 05 Run 44 Think 75 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Agility 85 Arms 84 Legs 86 Torso 99 Back 73 Fingers 92 Nil Nil
Fortitude 27 Magic Def 01 Mental Def 50 Stability 50 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Intelligence 99 Emotional 13 Scientific 98 Spiritual 93 Interpersonal 37 Bestial 58 Creative 99
Magic 01 Fire 01 Ice 01 Water 01 Wind 01 Earth 01 Nil Nil
Spirit -- Restoration 01 Illusion 01 Life 01 Dark 01 Light 01 Resistance --
Luck 01 Money 01 Combat 01 Magic 01 Relational 01 Nil Nil Nil Nil
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Upon seeing her stats and her curse, Circe began to sweat. Perhaps her improvised teammate had better stats. With a slight wave of her hand, she scrolled until she found his name. From the corner of her eye, she noticed other people were doing the same. Everyone found the stat database quite interesting, but she couldn¡¯t be the only one with such a ridiculous power. Surely everyone else had equally problematic abilities. She decided to check out Alfredo¡¯s abilities next. Alfredo Grandioso Delgado Hell¡¯s Dreamer
Skill Description
On Form Novice 01 Can boost strength and stamina by 10 percent for thirty minutes a day.
Vital Statistics # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat #
Perception 39 Sight 39 Hearing 73 Touch 44 Awareness 12 Spiritual 04 Nil Nil
Strength 64 Arms 76 Legs 81 Torso 56 Back 64 Grip 45 Nil Nil
Toughness 75 Blunt 75 Slice 61 Pressure 88 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Stamina 37 Heart 12 Lungs 39 Arms 48 Legs 73 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Speed 47 Swim 25 Swing 58 Run 41 Think 23 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Agility 09 Arms 29 Legs 11 Torso 02 Back 03 Fingers 07 Nil Nil
Fortitude 99 Magic Def 99 Mental Def 99 Stability 99 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Intelligence 11 Emotional 03 Scientific 04 Spiritual 13 Interpersonal 23 Bestial 11 Creative 01
Magic 01 Fire 01 Ice 01 Water 01 Wind 01 Earth 01 Nil Nil
Spirit 01 Restoration 01 Illusion 01 Life 01 Dark 01 Light 01 Resistance 50
Luck 99 Money 99 Combat 99 Magic 99 Relational 99 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Circe glanced at Alfredo as he scanned his abilities. How was any of this fair? He had better stats than her almost every respect and he could improve. He had combat centered abilities and she was stuck with some aesthetic garbage. She scanned the entire cave and everyone, everything, felt so much stronger than her. Play my game! If Azoria wanted her to play this game, why did she give such a terrible stat pool and a non-power!? But perhaps there was somebody weaker. The man with the katana snickered and clicked his lips as he continued the staring contest with the bull. The people were too engaged with their stats to pay much attention. Though Circe finished early as she didn¡¯t want to see anymore. She heard the man as he started to giggle. Then he began to laugh. The laugh became loud and maniacal as he continued to stare into the eyes of the bull. The bull remained deadpan, staring with its mouth open. ¡°Ha! Mwhahaha!¡± laughed the swordsman, ¡°HAHAHA! HAHAHAHA! MWAHAHAHAHA! AAHHHHHHHH! HAHAHAHA!¡± His gut began to heave and laughter became broken, louder, hoarse. The swordsman laughed so hard that blood spurted out his mouth down his lip. Unhinged laughter filled the cave. A big wad of gum smeared against the left side of his hair. The sanity bar above the man¡¯s head drained to ZERO. A loud announcement bellowed throughout the cave from above: Adonis Smith: Delusional Cosplayer: SANITY ZERO! FATALITY! 5. Brutalizer ¡°MWHAHAHAHAHA! AAAAHAHAHAHAHA!¡± Adonis screamed, ¡°IF YOU POWER TELEGRAPHIC PORPOISES WITH CLOUD RESONANCE YOU CAN JUMP WITH DRUNK FINGER PUSHERS! AHAHAHAHAHA!¡± Adonis swung his katana with wild swishing noises as he screamed what sounded like pure nonsense at the top of his lungs. His face twitched, his eyes crossed, and he frothed from the mouth as he ran at a young woman and sliced her across the middle with his sword. Screams echoed from around the scene and spread across the cave as blood sprayed outwards from the body. Adonis twirled in a rain of blood. The corpse of the young woman stayed slightly airborne as he sliced it again and again until it looked more like a lump of sliced raw meat than a corpse. An anouncement echoed throughout the lit cave. Megan Gratitude Ullyses: Confused Wanderer: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY! ¡°Somebody stop him, he¡¯s gone insane!¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have a weapon!¡± ¡°Me neither, she didn¡¯t give any of us weapons if we didn¡¯t come with them!¡± ¡°I have a sword skill and no sword!¡± Nobody in the police officers'' group made any move to proactively help anyone around the swordsman even though the officer had a stun baton. With her legs shaking, Circe was afraid to say anything. If she got anywhere near that lunatic wielding an imitation katana combined with whatever power he had, it would be enough to cut her in half. Alfredo didn¡¯t look too interested in getting involved as they were far enough away from the action to have the illusion of safety. Circe frantically tried to look up the names she heard, but they were removed from the database so she simply kept scrolling as she hadn¡¯t figured that out yet. Alfredo peered over her shoulder while crouched. ¡°What exactly is goin'' on here? That guy wit'' tuh sword is goin'' more juiced than an over ripe tamato.¡± ¡°I have no idea, but let¡¯s keep our distance and slowly back up, stay behind the cop and his group.¡± ¡°Gotcha,¡± Megan¡¯s corpse began to come apart. An eye flew out. A leg hung by a thread as the katana bit through bone. The bowels slid chopped and messy over the floor. Fingers flew from the body as the blade twirled along with slices of cloth. Finally, a few twirling swings lopped off her head, though there wasn¡¯t much blood left to escape the gaping neck. Adonis hacked the corpse into pieces. When the pieces dropped, unable to stay airborne with the assistance of the crazed katana, Adonis ran through the gore pile to the next person in his sights. A young man with glasses wasn¡¯t caught completely off guard, as he cast a spell that grew a wood shield from his wrist. The blade thunked against the wood. ¡°Bwaaahahahahaha! BWAAAK! BWAAAWWWK! GABAAWWWK!¡± Adonis screamed his crazed swings slammed against the elemental shield. Circe clung to Alfredo¡¯s shirt and trembled so much that she was practically going to rip it. That could have easily been her. Alfredo looked down, stopped his own trembling as best he could and inflated his muscles slightly. ¡°I don¡¯t need a weapon tuh fight, if he reaches us maybe he¡¯ll be drained from buggin'' out so hard, ya know?¡± Closer to the stage, the Katana threw out sparks of energy as it sliced across a spectral looking shield. The force of the blows slid the opponents¡¯ sneakers across the smooth granite with a shushed squeak. ¡°He¡¯s gonna break it!¡± the shield user pleaded. Scrolling through nearly a thousand names to find someone she didn¡¯t know proved too difficult. Sure, their names and powers were listed but there was no picture in the file. It wasn¡¯t as easy to identify the others as she thought it would be. Getting close enough to ask the shield user his name so she could get a tactical idea would take too long and risk her being sliced. The police officer had left his screen open while watching the chaos unfold. If she could possibly see the name, but she needed to creep closer. Alfredo held her back. She turned, shaking her head at him. ¡°I need to see the cop¡¯s name.¡± ¡°Fine, go for it, but get yer butt outta there as soon as yuh get what yuh need.¡± She scurried to the officer and his group, just close enough to where she could see the name on the holographic screen floating in the air by the officer. As she thought, he had been checking his own stats when the show started. His name was Mark Stanford Bellview Mark Stanford Bellview Brutalizer
Skill Description
Arcing Novice 01 Can flow electrical currents around any weapon with no regard for conductivity of the material for twenty seconds a day.
Reach Novice 01 Can extend the reach of a weapon by half a meter once a day for thirty seconds.
Passive Description
Magic Growth 01 Ten percent bonus to growth for wind and water magic.
Vital Statistics # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat #
Perception 73 Sight 41 Hearing 82 Touch 59 Awareness 69 Spiritual 13 Nil Nil
Strength 75 Arms 79 Legs 75 Torso 76 Back 58 Grip 73 Nil Nil
Toughness 89 Blunt 97 Slice 53 Pressure 55 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Stamina 53 Heart 58 Lungs 51 Arms 59 Legs 61 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Speed 87 Swim 61 Swing 89 Run 96 Think 57 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Agility 43 Arms 52 Legs 42 Torso 58 Back 37 Fingers 37 Nil Nil
Fortitude 25 Magic Def 39 Mental Def 27 Stability 31 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Intelligence 58 Emotional 11 Scientific 71 Spiritual 14 Interpersonal 27 Bestial 80 Creative 12
Magic 30 Fire 05 Ice 05 Water 37 Wind 71 Earth 41 Nil Nil
Spirit 10 Restoration 01 Illusion 09 Life 11 Dark 03 Light 03 Resistance 20
Luck 69 Money 15 Combat 73 Magic 57 Relational 55 Nil Nil Nil Nil
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. This was enough, Circe knew what needed to be done. She nodded to Alfredo to let him know he should trust her before she joined the small group who had gathered about the police officer. She grabbed the blue uniform pants and leaned against him. ¡°You need to take out that crazy guy before he kills anyone else,¡± Circe said, ¡°You have the perfect set-up to do so¡± ¡°Were you spying on me!?¡± ¡°I saw your name, anyone who knows your name can look up your stats. Once people start using their powers and dying, I don¡¯t think anybody is going to have trouble finding anyone else anyway! Please, you¡¯re a police officer, you help people, right!¡± ¡°If you want to help him so badly, why don¡¯t you step out front and volunteer?¡± The officer gave Circe a forceful push toward the fight that caused her to skid on her sneakers while taking several big steps forward in order to not fall over. When she managed to skid to a stop, she suddenly faced the fight closer than she¡¯d ever been. The young man with the plant shields had been pushed closer towards the officer¡¯s group, with each slash of the katana causing him to slid backward closer to where Circe had stopped. Her vision felt blurry as panic set in. Footsteps were approaching from the side, fast, something massive was on the move. But the plant shield user was right behind her. Adonis attacked in circular motions as he moved like a top extending a blade. The attacks were predictable but so fast and powerful they chipped the wooden shields like a saw blade and ate through the opponent¡¯s mana. Circe froze as a wood chip smacked her cheek and drew blood. Officer Bellview smirked as he saw Alfredo, the man who had been sitting with her, approach looking rather determined to save the useless little waif. He guessed the old man was a relative or something from the way they had stuck together during the waiting period. He ran forward, withdrew his baton, and gave Circe a good smack centered on her back. ¡°Just a bit closer!¡± he teased, ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll do fine!¡± The push sent Circe tumbling forward as the katana became caught in a bloody wood shield growing from his opponent¡¯s thigh. The wood of the shield grew around the weapon to forcefully sheath it as vines extended upward along the blade toward Adonis¡¯ hands. Circe couldn¡¯t get control of her forward motion and smacked head first into the insane swordsman¡¯s torso. Her push was just enough force to help his katana shake free of the hilt and slice the vines as it pulled out. The wounded fighter using wooden shields took the chance to back away before sprinting in full retreat. Azoria watched him flee as she leaned over her high podium resting her chin on her hands. Tail swayed behind her idly. Mogg-dell had closed his eyes and breathed heavily; a large bubble of snot formed from his right nostril. ¡°What¡¯s this!? What¡¯s this!? What¡¯s this I say, a koala in a hot dog bun!? Let¡¯s slice it! Slice, slice, slice, SLICE IT!¡± Mouth quivered and gasped in silent screams. Legs shook. Eyes darted. Knees pushed together. Heart raced as breath ceased. There was a thumping, beating, pounding baseline from the floor that made her legs quiver while the viscera coated blade quickly pulled upwards trailed by a fine gore mist. The blade arched back even further as Adonis readied to swing for that slender little neck of hers. Frothing saliva slid from his hanging lips. Then he swung. 6. Dumpling Flab wobbled as the arm raised the cleaver and then brought it down into the meat. CHOP! The visions took him back to Volvograd, where Fedor tried to play with the other children. They stopped and stared angrily when he arrived. There were names for kids like him: fatty, huge, lard butt, heavy, and worst of all, dumpling. Stones hit like hail as he lifted his arm to shield his face from the pelting. He ran toward the muddy streets as rocks hit the back of his head and neck, back to the meat shop. CHOP! Your father is working hard at the shop. Why aren¡¯t you helping him? You want to read books? Romance books!? How will books help you chop meat? That¡¯s nonsense. You didn¡¯t finish your dinner, here, eat a second helping. My big dumpling! CHOP! A rose lifted towards the young woman. To him, she was the most beautiful girl in school even though she was bullied by the other girls. She looked at him as he towered over her. Sweaty clothes clung to rolled skin as moisture beaded off of his high forehead. With a steady step she backed away. ¡°Would you like to go to the p-p-arade with me?¡± She shook her head, ¡°With you! I¡¯m sorry dumpling. I¡¯m already spoken for.¡± ¡°Oh, sorry, it¡¯s well and good then,¡± But she had already ran off. CHOP! The wine soaking his hair ran down his face in little red rivulets. It stung his eyes. The flower held between his sausage-like finger blurred. Laughter filled the room, drowning out the party music. ¡°He actually did it. He actually confessed to her. This is the fourth girl this year, and her of all people. What desperation!¡± A hand smacked hard into his back. ¡°Dumpling, you¡¯re a riot, you¡¯re hilarious! Who will you propose to next! You look red faced, here, drink some vodka!¡± CHOP! ¡°Father! Father, can you hear me? Do you want some vodka? Father, what¡¯s wrong. Call the doctor! Mother, mother, father is ill. He passed out over the table while we were working! I can¡¯t get him to stand up!¡± It took several strong ambulance drivers to get Fedor¡¯s father into the vehicle. The man would never raise a cleaver again. He heard his mother yelling, ¡°Dumpling, get to the car, we¡¯re going to the hospital!¡± CHOP! A heavy-set woman had been coming to the shop every day for the past week. She always bought several kilograms of sausage, a brick of the fattiest ground beef, and a kilogram of their best tenderloin cuts. The conversation had been good. They made eye contact. Fedor believed this one liked him. The rose stood ready in a water filled glass near the counter. She came with the same order, so he lifted the rose from the vase. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°Baby, dumpling, did you get the meat yet,¡± said a lanky older man in a white suit. A gold chain with an orthodox cross hung around his neck. He smacked her behind playfully. She turned and kissed him on the cheek. ¡°I¡¯m sorry love, usually he is fast but today he seems distracted. Perhaps we can go to another shop?¡± ¡°Ah- I¡¯m sorry miss. It¡¯s your turn. Can I get your usual order?¡± The rose fell to the bloody floor behind the counter. CHOP! ¡°Been a while since high school, doing well? Ah, never mind. So you want to join the military, da?¡± ¡°Da.¡± Fedor nodded. The recruiter with the broad chin overgrown with short stubble did not look impressed at the nearly thirty-year-old man who could barely fit through the door. He examined the file. ¡°I didn¡¯t think a dumpling like you could pass the physical. Ahhhh, we must be desperate. Men are in short supply. But I doubt you would be a good fit. Look at you, you¡¯re huge dumpling. Sure, you move well, but you¡¯d be a living target on the front. The assault squads are certainly out, and if you hold a trench you¡¯ll just get killed. How¡¯re we even going to feed a dumpling like you!¡± Fedor clenched his fists, ¡°I¡¯m a butcher. I¡¯m a very good one as well. I¡¯m not asking for big pay. I just want to serve the motherland. My mother and her new husband can handle our shop, so there will be no interruptions in local service.¡± The recruiter slapped his thigh, ¡°If you insist, I have an idea. You¡¯ve nothing to worry about. We actually need butchers. Our soldiers fight better when they have good protein. Exactly yes, I have the just perfect assignment for a man of your talents.¡± CHOP! Fedor put the meat on the pallet. The shrink wrap went around and into the notch. With the press of the button the pallet spun, wrapping the meat. Cut the meat, wrap the meat, spin the meat, and watch the forklift lift the pallet onto the flat bed. Another batch of fresh meat arrived, upon another, and then another. "Fresh batch dumpling!" The battered corpse fell upon the table before the cleaver raised and dropped over it. Another batch, another pallet swirled as the shrink wrap crinkled. The buzz of the chipper activated as limbs filled the chute. The cleaver rang whenever it hit shrapnel. Meat squelched. CHOP! Another pallet finished wrapping as it dripped watered down life liquids from the compressed rotted meat and flesh inside. Fedor¡¯s eyes stung with a crusty infection. He could hear a buzzing ringing in his ears. ¡°I¡¯m going outside to smoke,¡± The garage door opened with a twirling clinking chain sound. Crickets chirped in the high grass. The smell of rotten meat faded as the gravel crunched beneath his feet. Despite the poor rations and the heavy work, he had not lost weight. Plenty of free meat to be had if one could quickly discern which cuts were unspoiled. The feast of war never ended. The cigarette was a bad excuse to go outside, everyone knew he didn¡¯t smoke. But a man could not be trapped in a warehouse all day, sometimes he needed to smell what remained of the fresh air. But what buzzed in the air? Stravinsky! No, possibly similar but it had a mix of Gershwin¡¯s style and its¡¯ own elemental beat. The most beautiful piece he had ever heard played over the air, a composition of absolute genius. He walked toward the symphony of sound as the wilted unlit cigarette in his hand lengthened while sprouting leaves and thorns that pierced flesh. A bud pushed out of the tobacco as the smoke bloomed into a large red rose. The thorns pressed through the skin of the chubby fingers to draw blood. He lifted the rose and looked confused as blood trickled down his fingers. The sky was a clear blue with one or two perfectly fluffy white clouds. The music gave the breeze that cut the hot air a classical ambience scented with grilled beef. It became louder, and if he listened hard enough, he could hear a high-pitched giggle among the notes. A woman appeared before him and instead of grimacing in disgust she actually smiled and waved. What was this crazy woman doing out here? It wasn¡¯t the front, but running around outside was still dangerous. He floundered angrily toward her, as he intended to tell her to get home. As he got closer, he noticed the fine embroidered detail of the traditional red and white dress. Her brilliant hair the color of flowing snow like a winter evening in moonlight contrasted red glowing eyes like the fire of a warm hearth. That shy smile played with his heart. He fell in love. His heart ached as his body quivered and he dared lift the rose to this surreal beauty. To his shock, she approached and gently held out a hand to accept his gift. ¡°What a beautiful gift, and you¡¯ve been waiting so long for someone to receive it. You have a profoundly deep heart.¡± She swirled in place while lifting the rose up above his head. The music played louder. That hidden orchestra played the mix of Stravinsky and Gershwin that tamed his ears and made his love all the more beautiful. He tried to speak so as to ask where she came from, but his lips merely quivered as he rubbed his infected eyes. Suddenly she flung herself against him, her tail pushed into his rolls of fat to tickle his flesh. Hands clung against his chest to kneed his bloody apron. ¡°No, no, you can¡¯t touch me like this. I¡¯m hideous. I will only stain you.¡± Azoria pushed back from the huge man and blinked before looking into his eyes, gazing gently for the longest moment. She hovered off the ground, bare feet dangling from her dress so she could enjoy his gaze as she carressed his cheek. ¡°I like you, Fedor. I want you to be my dumpling. I want you to play a game with me. Won¡¯t you please join me?¡± ¡°There is nothing I would want more.¡± A twisted cigarette fell to the burnt ground as Fedor saw his bloody shrapnel wounded hand. The classical symphonic duel between Gershwin and Stravinsky that had soothed his soul warped into a cacophony of grenade explosions and the buzzing of propellers. A rickety device floating on four propellers floated in front of his face. The camera scanned the several hundred pound man in the army logistics uniform and bloody apron. Fedor¡¯s mouth hung open as he stared at the drone. It stared back at him with two red blinking lights. It dropped a metal tube in front of his feet. CHOP! 7. Going For Broke The stained sword arced toward Circe with a swish. Back arched. Neck craned. Chest tensed. Head thumped against the floor. She winced as teeth smacked together and almost bit her tongue. The back of her hands slid above her as she tried to keep her arms out of the way. The smooth portion of the sword swiped the tip of her nose. A streak of blood sprayed across her pink shirt. Senseless babbling mixed with hoarsely screamed laughter assaulted her ears. It proved disorienting, painful listening. Sword arced upward again. Fingers released the hilt with a twist to reposition the blade before clasping again. Yet instead of slashing from the opposite direction, Adonis raised the sword and faced the blade outward with both hands gripping the hilt. The stained stainless steel glinted with the neo-fluorescent cave light before it swished down with the force of tensing muscle. The blade fell toward the center of her body lengthwise. Circe squeezed her eyelids shut. ¡°Oww!¡± A firm hand grabbed her by the wrist and yanked with such force that her shoulder popped. Her legs slid across the floor, slightly spread as she sensed the weapon swishing down between them. The strike clanged against stone with a spark. The tip of the sword caught the bottom center of her shorts to slice a small hole into them. She craned her head and opened her eyes to see Alfredo huffing as he dragged her along by the wrist with a painfully tight grip on her limb. ¡°Ablub abub gorple frumpis dafnoli baloney!¡± Adonis screamed as he pointed at them with his weapon. The twisting grip on her wrist made the skin turn bright red as he pulled her along the floor as fast as he could without a care for her dragging legs or dislocating shoulder. Circe winced. Adonis sprinted at them. His head band slipped over his left eye. Gum smeared his tight black curly hair. Alfredo was no match for his speed, nor did he have time to help Circe to her feet. The sword raised above the gum smeared hair. Then Adonis turned the blade to the six o''clock position and shifted it so that the back nearly slid along his face. Instead of swinging he thrust the tip of the blade at her chest like it was a spear. Alfredo let go of her wrist. Circe felt her butt slide along the floor as the blade came at her ribs. The older man swung to backhand the blade with enough force to divert it. The tip of the blade crashed into the floor and skidded slightly as the sparking tip chipped centimeter away from Circe''s hip. The force of the strike jolted Adonis¡¯ arm and he craned his neck. ¡°Bilbo!¡± Adonis clenched his fist, coiled his free arm back, and punched Alfredo in the face. Blood squirted from Alfredo¡¯s nose as the power of the strike sent him backwards nearly a meter and toppled him over. He remained spread out on the floor as Circe shivered. Adonis raised his sword again with a scream that made him swirl in her vision. Her eyes focused on the movement of the weapon. "BAGINS!" Circe tensed her body lengthwise without trying to get up. Then she rolled. It didn¡¯t matter which direction, she simply tumbled as fast as her body could take her. The blade smashed lengthwise into the stone floor next to her. Adonis insisted on raising the blade and bringing it crashing down with the full force of his strength. Now on her stomach, she listened for the blade''s swishing and rolled in the opposite direction. The blade chipped against the stone floor again. Think! He sounded a bit winded. His swings weren¡¯t as fast, and he was using a katana like a hammer. Circe listened carefully. Roll now! A thick boot curbed stomped the shin of her right leg at an unfortunate angle. Bone snapped. ¡°Gnyaahhhhh!¡± she heard herself scream in a super high pitch as she spit. Tears sprayed from the sides of her eyes. Adonis ground his boot while leaning his full weight into the break so as to separate her tibia and stretch the flesh. Circe spit, screamed, and pounded her fists. Tears flew from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She pressed her head against the floor and sensed the vibrations of an approaching stampede. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Roli Poli Polly. No more go rolling!¡± Adonis laughed insanely. He gave his foot one last perch over top her broken leg. The sound of her gasping and wheezing in pain became music to his ears. ¡°Polly go bye byes,¡± he whispered. Then he burst out laughing. He bellowed with such power that it split through all her other pains and dominated them. The ragged sword went high above her back. Circe felt a swish of warm moist air. There was a smack followed by a gasp. The laughter stopped. Circe took a deep breath upon realizing she wasn¡¯t dead and her leg was free. Elbows and fists slammed the floor as she pushed with her left leg and crawled toward Alfredo, who laid prone on his back with a bubbling bloody nose. Meanwhile, rolls of fat jiggled as the butcher battered the face of Adonis with a series of left hooks. One after another, the butcher grunted while punching in quick succession. The crazed man clung to the sword tightly, yet it remained down and at his side as he tanked punch after punch to the face. Fedor slid his opponent backwards toward the stage with meat softening punches that tilted back and methodically landed like a slow jack hammer. Teeth began to separate from Adonis¡¯ gums as his lips split apart. Finally, Fedor raised the cleaver with his right and readied to swing. Instead of taking an easy swing for the neck, Fedor instinctively raised the cleaver high for a disemboweling cut as he narrowed his eyes tensely. The slower attack allowed Adonis to react. Fedor¡¯s cleaver stopped against a divot in the chipped blade. Adonis jumped back to put some distance between himself and the slightly winded butcher. Then he charged forward with renewed energy for a counter assault. Azoria gazed from the podium breathlessly with the spade of her tail raised far above her. Her knuckles gripped the sides of the smooth stained wood so tightly it began to crunch and splinter. Eyes burned a glowing bright neon red as her pupils narrowed into slits. Her hair flowed as if in the midst of a great wind. She took deep flowing breaths through her nose. A soft pink tongue slid across her lower lip. Mog-dell stood beside her, asleep while standing. A bubble of snot rose and fell from the beefy bull''s left nostril. Circe paid little attention to the sound of combat behind her. She shuffled her way towards Alfredo and poked him, then pushed at him with her hand. There was a muffled gurgle to the man¡¯s breathing that sounded like choking on blood. Mark nodded to his group and then strolled over while twirling his baton. He poked the body with it. Circe got on her hands and knees, a bit out of breath and wincing as she tugged at Alfredo''s arm. ¡°You need help?¡± the officer asked. Circe nodded. ¡°Hey, old man, wake up!¡± Mark slammed the baton down into the prominent gut, causing legs and arms to jolt with a spit, heave, and a cough. ¡°Didn¡¯t you hear me the first time? Get up!¡± Then he slammed the baton down into the same spot again. Circe forced herself up on one foot and balled her fists as her right foot dangled at a slightly odd angle with even minimal weight on it. ¡°Do that again and so help me I will end your filthy pig career with my bare hands.¡± ¡°And just what exactly are you going to do if I refuse? Beat me up? Cry?¡± Mark raised the baton for another strike and swung it down, but Alfredo raised his arm and caught his wrist before the baton reached his gut. His eyes glowed slightly as his power activated. Stat Growth: Torso Toughness +1 Head Toughness +1 Grip +3 Arm Strength +2 Ability Level Up: Oni Form Novice 02 An electric current ran through Mark''s baton but Alfredo twisted his wrist to keep it from touching him. Both of their hands went a little numb, which allowed Mark to force his wrist free at the cost of a stumble backwards. Blood leaked from Alfredo¡¯s nose down to his chin and lips. A clot stuck in the back of his throat that he needed to cough up and spit out. His mouth tasted like iron. Slightly bloated and wrinkled hands pushed against his thighs as he forced himself up before Mark could recover his footing. He glared at the officer and made a fist at his side. ¡°You heard the little lady; I¡¯d lay off it if I was you. Nobody here gives a rat¡¯s tooth that yuh used tuh be a cop. So if yuh wanna throw hands then let''s go then.¡± The baton twirled before sliding back in his belt as he quietly whistled. Then he backed away, still whistling. Circe stayed standing in place as Alfredo came toward her. The pain was so strong that her leg screamed as bone shifted under the muscle. The break was close to her shin, so when she lifted it, her foot hung slightly with the support of bruised skin, muscle, and tendon. ¡°I think I broke my leg.¡± Circe deflated, went down to one knee, then collapsed on all fours panting because of the pain. Throughout the cave, fights broke out as the crowd began feeling out their powers. Alfredo knelt by her side and put his arms out. ¡°Lemme carry yuh, this ain''t time to not be moving! Maybe we can find a doctor who hasn¡¯t lost his marbles.¡± Circe hesitated. More announcements bellowed from the ceiling. Amber Delacroix: Inefficient Manager: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY! Hermann Grutusch: Outspoken Nationalist: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY! Hesitation probably wasn''t in her best interest. ¡°Fine, just don¡¯t drop me and try not to jostle too much.¡± Alfredo scooped her into his arms and raised her rather gently by lifting with his legs just like they taught him at the docks. He surveyed the field and cursed under his breath. The woman¡¯s right leg looked a bit discolored but mostly in place without any pressure on it. He didn''t see bone pushing through the skin at least. ¡°Now what?¡± Circe whinged in pain as her lower legs swayed when he turned left, saw a fight, and pivoted right a bit too quickly. ¡°You came up with a plan this time, so if you want to help me so much, follow it.¡± The slightest hint of purpose and pride escaped his hoarse trembling voice. ¡°Yuh can count on me. Boss.¡± 8. Dr. Ebony Rhodes A fat, half-lidded, orange and black striped cat printed on the mug stood holding a steaming cup of coffee. It hated Mondays. The office had enough room for a desk, a computer, a file cabinet but it was still a private office with a door she could lock. The glare of the florescent overhead lighting was a little much for her so she had a table lamp next to the radio on her filing cabinet. A soft voice played on the radio: Thank you for listening to national public radio. Programs like The Strings of Niccolo Paganini would not be possible without the generous support of our sponsors and viewers like you. Ebony sipped her coffee and took a moment to unwind as she leaned back in her chair and listened to the strings. Nothing soothed her more. She clenched her darkened heavy eyelids and began to slump in her chair before the coffee was back on her desk. A knock stirred her and prevented a spill. As she rose from her chair, she ran a pick through her short, curled hair. A cough cleared her throat. The sleeping bag was kicked into the space under her desk she reserved for it as she grabbed one of the patient files in the standing folder tray before she pressed the door unlock button. ¡°Come in,¡± she called. The door opened quietly as an older woman in a suit dress with low heels entered the office. The lapel read: Marcia Guttierez Hospital Administrator. Ebony¡¯s eyes widened slightly as she tried to keep a serious composure. Fingers tensed around the clipboard. ¡°I wanted to stop by and check on you. Jennifer from human resources is worried. You haven¡¯t taken a day for self-care in over a month and you¡¯re looking noticeably tired.¡± ¡°Well, regardless of how I look, I am at full competence. We¡¯re understaffed and people need help. I can assure you that I am eating healthy, exercising, and getting enough sleep. My performance won¡¯t suffer.¡± A gentle hand rubbed Ebony¡¯s upper arm, ¡°You came into the office at three AM. You used the sleeping bag again, didn¡¯t you?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a regular occurrence and I can manage it. I¡¯m fine.¡± ¡°You¡¯re one of the best and brightest general practitioners I¡¯ve ever had the pleasure of working with and you are essential to the smooth operation of our ER. But you are not super woman, we¡¯ll need to limit the number of patients per day regardless of the crowds. And because your primarily responsibility is with us, no more volunteering at the clinic three nights of week. We¡¯re going to ask that you limit yourself to five hours a week there.¡± ¡°I have patients who need me, they have no insurance and nowhere else to go.¡± ¡°Precisely why you need to take care of yourself. We can¡¯t afford to lose you.¡± ----- This would be her last consultation for the day, as going against the directive after a visit from the administrator would not sit well. The patient, a teenage girl with black hair in long tight braids, sat on the medical bed with their right leg elevated and straight out. The X-rays had already been completed. Ebony had already seen the diagnostics so she went straight to the patient. ¡°Good evening young lady, how are you doing today?¡± she asked with a warm smile. ¡°Not well, I can¡¯t hardly walk after gym class today.¡± ¡°Understood, any medications, over the counter drugs, allergies or otherwise?¡± she asked, double checking the paper work. ¡°No, mam.¡± The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Well Deidra, you have yourself a hairline fracture so I¡¯d recommend you skip running around on it for a couple of months. We¡¯re going to have a specialist make sure its nice and set and then get you splinted.¡± ¡°No cast?¡± ¡°That depends on how things look in about a week from now. If there¡¯s no swelling and you keep it straight, we¡¯ll consider a cast. But most likely you won¡¯t need one.¡± The girl looked down, disappointed, ¡°Then what are my friends going to sign?¡± Ebony laughed as she made her exit, ¡°Your get-well card of course!¡± Her posture slumped. Not this again. This was the last thing she needed. Green and red swirls swam in sometimes blurring vision as the world around her took on a surreal monochromatic tone. One of the nurses walked by and she straightened her posture quickly, even puffing up a bit to show how strong she was. She¡¯d consulted with twenty-five ER patients today and completed their paperwork without error. There was no problem. Not a single patient more, even though the ER was stacked and few more consultations with some of the throat scratchers and band-aid requestors would have greatly reduced the overflow. Not a single patient more. In all honesty, she realized she was at her limit. Ebony needed a full eight hours, maybe nine or ten, of decent sleep. The task of making it back to her office remained. She tried desperately to put on a strong front, puff out her chest and make it back to her office before she collapsed. Beautiful music reached her ears. Someone played the violin in this hospital of all places? Who in their right mind had time for that? Oh, perhaps she left the door to her office open. No, wait. Her office was on the second floor and this was the ground floor. She swore someone was playing A Winter Night In Boston by Damien Escobar. It wasn¡¯t a perfect rendition of his style, more like a sadistically inclined AI attempting to copy the piece as there was something slightly off-putting about the playing that Ebony couldn¡¯t put her finger on. And yet, it still remained coldly beautiful. The music became stronger as she approached the double doors leading to the chamber of the MRI. Somebody must have requested that music for their scan. Did it have to be so loud that it echoed throughout the whole hospital? Come to think of it, where was everybody? Had the music issue caused a fuss? Even the door had been propped open and that certainly was forbidden. All the doors were open and nobody stood posted, not even a technician. Yet music flowed to her ears from the MRI. Ebony could recognize the difference between live instrumental and a recording. Sure enough, a girl in a nurse¡¯s outfit stood beside the MRI machine. The giant donut-like device loomed over her as she tilted her head to play one of Ebony¡¯s favorite violinists. This strange nurse wore a tight and shortcut outfit more appropriate for a Halloween costume party than a professional hospital setting. The costume horns, a spaded tail resting on the floor, flowing white wig, pretty much confirmed this had to be a big joke at her expense. Slow clapping filled the room as Ebony''s hands slapped together. ¡°I don¡¯t know who paid you for this stunt, but when I leave this room they¡¯re out of a job and you¡¯ll be talking to the police.¡± Azoria continued to play, ¡°No worries, if this violin had anything magnetic would I be able to play it in here?¡± ¡°Out! Get out!¡± Azoria continued to play. This time she switched to a piece by Stravinsky. The MRI complimented the composition with oddly time shudders and resonating hums. Ebony pointed to the door. The young women kept playing, twirling around the room while running the bow across the strings. Some discordant notes were struck on purpose. Playing Stravinsky was bad enough, playing Stravinsky off key was absolutely ear splitting. Too tired to think straight, Ebony walked in front of the MRI to slap the violin right off the girl¡¯s shoulder and send it tumbling to the floor where it cracked in two pieces. The broken violin still played soft, discordant, random notes. ¡°Aww, you broke it¡­¡± Ebony used her deepest, most booming, most authoritative voice, ¡°Young lady, you will come with me right this minute or so help me I swear I will drag you out!¡± The same voice she used with her teenage son. Azoria swung around and put her slender ivory hands over Ebony¡¯s shoulders before sliding them down her arms until they were holding hands. The spaded tail raised in the air as Azoria raised the doctor¡¯s hands. Eyes glowed a demon coal red. ¡°How about you play a game with me instead?¡± ¡°ENOUGH!¡± Ebony shouted at the top of her now cracking, tired, voice. ¡°So grumpy,¡± Azoria puffed out her cheeks as she frowned, ¡°I know, before we play, you should definitely go to bed.¡± shik... shik.. shik. shik The music stopped as Azoria vanished. The broken violin disintegrated into magnetic static. Only the rumbling hum of the MRI machine continued in the spacious cold room. That wasn¡¯t the only music. The rattling of a hospital bed grew louder with a shifting sound of turning wheels. Not an unusual sound in a hospital. SHIK, SHIK! SHIK! SHIK! SHIK! Ebony rubbed her temple and looked around to get her bearings. The hospital bed lifted off it¡¯s wheels and went airborne. It flew directly into her right shoulder, then shoved her forcefully into the MRI entrance. Her neck twisted, then snapped. Legs crunched. The crash echoed through the entire hospital ground floor as the MRI began to slowly compact the bloody bed towards the hungry magnet. 9. Until Your Heart Stops Beating While passed out in Alfredo¡¯s arms, Circe began to play a conversation from five years ago in her head. It was the middle of her final semester at Columbia and she¡¯d spent a bit too much money. Just a bit too much. ¡°But Dad, I¡¯m struggling here!¡± ¡°Life is a struggle Circe. You¡¯ve been struggling from the first moment you lived. Struggling to grow, to form, to get stronger, to be the woman you are today. Money isn¡¯t your problem. You¡¯re old enough to handle these things on your own.¡± ¡°But Dad!¡± ¡°Is your heart beating?¡± ¡°What does that have to do with anything!? I¡¯m alive, aren¡¯t I? It¡¯s not going to be beating if I don¡¯t have money to live.¡± ¡°You have your loans, your scholarship, and the money we saved for your college fund. We budgeted more than enough. What happened?¡± ¡°Life happened. It¡¯s not easy like when you went to school.¡± There was a long pause as Circe waited for him to speak. ¡°Every day is a struggle, for everybody. Sometimes we power through and feel like we own it. Sometimes we can''t even move forward. But we have to keep struggling or we¡¯ll never get stronger." "But Dad!" In the end, none of us want to die before our time. So, learn from this. Move forward as best you can. Your mother and I have decided that we¡¯re not going to rob you of your growth as an adult.¡± ¡°I hate you. You¡¯re a terrible father who always talks down to women. You think you¡¯re philosophical but you¡¯re a witless man who makes bird houses for a living! I need money! Put mom on the line.¡± She heard him take an anger releasing breath. ¡°She went out to lunch with her friends. I¡¯ll tell her you called. Sorry, but I have some orders to finish in the garage, so I¡¯ll talk to you later. Take care with your studies. I love you.¡± Click Stale huffs of breath hit the top of her head as she regained consciousness. Alfredo jogged along the edges of the cave they had previously been avoiding. Somehow, he managed not to jostle her leg too much. The walls of the cave glowed with the same fluorescent white that poured from the ceiling. Upon opening eyes, the harsh light made squint, and the pain from her throbbing right leg made her squint more. John Dimms: Unfortunate Space-man: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY A deep breath pulled into her chest as she looked down at herself. Fingers tensed into fists that rested on her waist. Relying on Alfredo to survive humiliated her, still better than being sliced in half by a mad man. They were getting further away from the fights near the stage, but casted magic powers flew back and forth on the other side of them. A handsome young man with ice powers flung spikes of ice against another less handsome young man who threw fireballs. There was too much going on and too much pain for Circe to keep track of it all. It was like being in a crowded nightclub after a fire broke out, with a broken leg, and everybody had superpowers but they still couldn¡¯t escape the nightclub. And everyone was still very squishy. Guy Slarvadio: Ultra Cool Wizard: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY! ¡°I don¡¯t need your help. Put me down.¡± ¡°Hey, hey, hey, what are yuh on? Tuh minute I put yuh down, yer done in here. Don¡¯t be crazy!¡± Megan Alice Gertrude: Magical Girl: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY! ¡°I¡¯m not crazy. Drop me right now! This is my struggle; it belongs to me. You¡¯re not taking it away from me!¡± ¡°Boss, what tuh fudge has gotten into you? No dice, not puttin'' yuh down, not gonna do it. Owww!¡± This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. She bit him right on the chest, through a shirt, with enough force that he knew it would leave a mark. Then she slapped at his face, punched at his chest, and kicked. Kicking was the part where she hadn¡¯t been thinking clearly. Sending her right leg upward shot a bolt of pain through her spine and out her vocal cords in the form a high-pitched yelp. Circe turned pale before passing out again. Maria Constantine: Reluctant Worker: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY! John Dimms: Unfortunate Space-man: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY A limp woman rested in Alfredo''s arms, her body a bit slippery with a clammy sweat that could have been pain or infection. Wasn''t it too early for an infection? The leg didn''t look infected, only a bit swollen around the shin. It was starting to discolor but he wasn''t sure what that meant. "Are yuh people all nuts!? I need a doctor! Is anybody here a doctor? Is there somebody who ain''t nuts who can do some first aid kind of thing!? Could try but just know it''s goin'' tuh make it worse. Hey you, you over there, you look smart. Do yuh know first aid? Hey, c''mon, don''t do me like that!" Rosalino Ngono: Anti-Colonialist: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY! Perhaps being ignored was the better option, but Circe didn''t look so hot so to him. She''d lost her glasses too; he''d never seen her without them before. Her mouth hung open, which he guessed was okay. It was better than seeing her grit her teeth in tears, or was it? Carrying her around everwhere made his arms a bit tired even though she was thin as a rail. Come to think about it, the only time they¡¯d ever really talked was when she¡¯d come in for the loan. She wanted to open a specialty book store in Kentwood of all places. Worked at the library in Battery Park but from the way she spoke it was pretty nasty gig. He¡¯d felt bad and kind of charmed at the same time, so he talked the boss into approving a small loan to help get her through a rough patch. She never made a single payment. John Dimms: Unfortunate Space-man: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY Michael Johnson: Disappointed Singer: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY! Gary Jay Snailies: Meow Appreciator: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY! Heavy Deluxe: Mediocre Personality: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY! What was he getting himself into? Why was helping her when he was obviously way stronger and she was dead weight? Why was he helping her when she obviously was just using him like the big fat chump that he was? A soft sweet voice giggled in his head. ¡°She¡¯s going to turn on you, just like everyone else in your life. And since you already know how unreliable she is, it¡¯ll only be yourself to blame this time.¡± He stopped in place before an arcing energy blast almost chopped off his head. Sneakers skidded on the floor as he surveyed the fights around him. Nobody was coming at him. The attack hadn''t been meant for him. It had gone awry. Not that he could let his guard down. He decided to run back closer to the stage. With the exception of the crazy swordsman and the fat butcher, most contestants avoided the stage. So it became the safest of all the dangerous options. "You''re saving her life, and she bit you." Alfredo stopped in a pocket far enough from any action. Then he looked down at the woman who had just bit him laying all absolutely pathetic like and he realized something. He didn¡¯t care anymore. Mario Sztajnszrajber: Confusing Speaker: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY! His candy bar was still in her pocket and she had her phone back. If she wanted to figure it out on her own so bad, why not let her? Why was any of this his problem? None of this was his problem. He¡¯d survived his parents, he survived his bosses, he survived the docks, he survived the streets, and he¡¯d survive this. If there was anything he was good at, it was surviving. And now he had power to back it up, real power that he¡¯d proven in his confrontation with that cop. John Dimms: Unfortunate Space-man: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY This woman in his arms, what did she have? Glass bones and a rotten bad attitude. Well, not like they were family or nothing. He took her toward the wall, a relatively calm spot, and laid her flat on the marble floor. Her eyes opened but she still looked sickly pale and sticky with sweat. After setting her down he stood over her with his hands in his pockets. "How''s them apples? Yuh happy now?" Circe nodded, took a deep breath, and struggled to sit up straight only to slide back down on her back as she struggled not to pass out again. ¡°Fine, have it yer way. I¡¯ll be goin'' wit someone who actually pays their debts. See you around toots.¡± Circe blinked, tried to roll, but she was blacking out. Her chest felt heavy, like someone was sitting on it. Fingers stretched slightly as she tried to move her arm upwards. A heart beat on overdrive pounded her chest and thudded in her ears despite the background noise. She gave him the finger. ¡°Yeah, yeah, right back at yuh.¡± He turned his back and walked away. Circe could hear giggling in her head, and a soft soothing voice, ¡°You can¡¯t help it, you chase everyone away. You don¡¯t know how to get along. Yet you can¡¯t manage alone. You¡¯re pitiful, passive, useless, and mean. It''s a good a time as any if you want to quit the game; nobody is going to miss you.¡± Circe let a long deep breath escape and closed her eyes. She could feel her heart struggling so hard to pump blood through her body. It felt like it pushed against the wheels of a bus as they went round and round. In the distance, she could hear Adonis singing exactly that song. Numbness spread from her chest down through her fingers. She fought it with everything she had, but she had nothing. Tha-dump Tha-dump. Tha-dump.. Tha-dump... Tha... dump... tha... dum... tha... du... Circe Oratia Sheffield: Divergent Bookworm: HEARTBEAT ZERO! FATALITY! 10. Hell Undying The cavern filled with the sounds of conflict. Screams of pain, clanging of metal, the pounding of fists, gnashing of teeth, groans of despair and so many other delectable sounds that Azoria squeezed into a wine glass and sipped delicately. Such flavors distilled all in one place with such a bouquet of various raw emotion could not be replicated again in such exact proportions for thousands of years. The wine glass filled to the brim with this glowing red liquid. Pain, death, despair, confusion, dismay, hope, envy, determination, greed, lust, and so much more all swam into the mixture, which emitted a whispered scream that only Azoria could hear. The glass tipped against her red lips before she tilted back and drank it all like a shot. A little burp escaped and her cheeks turned bright red. Azoria twirled happily and leaned on her podium while holding the already half full wine glass. Azoria turned to the bull, barely able to stand as pale skin flushed, ¡°Don¡¯t you see Moggy, isn¡¯t shiss so much -hic- better than pure nonsense, insanity, and chaos all the time?¡± The bull crossed its eyes and raised its tail before releasing a huge fart. Azoria wrinkled her nose as she stumbled over to the bull and intentionally spilt the contents filling her glass on the stage floor in front of it. ¡°Lon¡¯t be dike shhthat, Moggy baby, give it trysies! Pwease, for me?¡± The bull craned its thick neck before releasing a long hot breath as if to express sincere boredom. Then it put its head down toward the spill and licked it tentatively. Eyes glowed as it refused to drink more than that first sip. ¡°Too much order, too much construction, too much careful planning, too much scheming, too little chaos, too little randomness, too little nonsense. How long do you think you can restrain me in this pitiful narrative, Delvia?¡± Azoria suddenly appeared laying atop his back on her stomach as her legs kicked idly in the air. Her chest pushed against the shaggy carpet like back. A finger made circles in the short brown fur at the top of the bull¡¯s head between its two large stubby horns. A large forceful hiccup escaped her lips before she took a healthy sip from the nearly full wine glass. ¡°Is Moggy angwy at the toy he can''t break? One of these days I¡¯ll make you see that chaos without order is emptiness, an abyss, and that chaos isn¡¯t the ultimate power.¡± ¡°I am endless. It¡¯s my abyss, I¡¯ll keep it the way I like. I¡¯ll feed on the concentration of insanity I prefer. Feed more souls into my depth. I want to play with them too, in the way that only I can.¡± The mixture poured onto the bull¡¯s fur and ran down its sides. Azoria''s buzz already had worn off, intentionally. ¡°I offer you everyone who dies here this day, a sacrifice to your eternal madness, to be tormented until their mind shatters and becomes one with your infinite chaos. Never to live again, never to be reincarnated, never to escape, to be forever hollow aspects burning in your stomach.¡± The bull smiled as its eyes glowed a bright burning red, and then it burped fire, ¡°That is satisfactory, for now. I must admit, Adonis is a fine appetizer. His soul, spirit, and mind, burn brightly with-¡± The bull stopped. Its head began to rotate, the neck twisted and popped as it spiraled then reset with each full 360-degree turn. Azoria sat upright and watched as the horns rotated past again and again, faster and faster. Then the thick broad neck elongated out past the edge of the stage before it popped back into place. The force of the snap sent Azoria backwards off the bull''s back and tangled her into the curtains. "So much FUN!" it squealed in a high-pitched child-like voice as Azoria dropped herself free. ----- Fedor charged with renewed energy for the counter assault. Adonis jumped out of the way. Fedor skidded to a stop and turned with a potent agility for his size. He kept his center of gravity stable so he could block the incoming swings with his cleaver. But every movement had to push a great deal of mass and this resulted in a loss of breath. The berserker attacked quickly, again and again, showing a sudden great increase in the speed of his attacks if not the efficiency of his targeting. Adonis couldn¡¯t take his eyes off the cleaver and struck it repeatedly with his sword. The clang of steel against steel echoed around them. Fedor braced himself and let his cleaver tank the flurry of strikes. If he could stand still and block attacks that would recover his stamina. And that Katana couldn¡¯t last forever. Chips and blunts ran up and down the ragged edges of the blade. And then, Adonis struck somewhere else. The sword struck down into the butcher¡¯s flabby side and sliced through his clothes. It pushed downward and then out into the fatty mass but got stuck. It couldn¡¯t escape the thick fat before the cleaver¡¯s blade flew against his neck and chopped into his vertebrae. Blood spurted from the half-separated neck as Fedor yanked the cleaver out and stumbled back. Adonis managed to pull the sword free with the help of his opponent stumbling back. A spray of blood gushed from the opened neck wound and ran down his coat. Adonis stared at Fedor, blinked, still clutching the abused katana. Blood pooled at his feet as his skin paled. It became sticky as the pool clotted around his boot. The man wouldn¡¯t fall. Blood ran from the wound in Fedor''s side as well, though the katana had only sliced through a fat roll it bled quickly and all the worse because the blade had become jagged. Adonis raised his sword with the blade out tilted to the side and ran forward, screaming more nonsense as Fedor blinked in astonishment. Announcement bellowed through the cave. Amber Delacroix: Inefficient Manager: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY! Hermann Grutusch: Outspoken Nationalist: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY! The man in the business suit and the police officer watched the fight from a distance. The Asian man adjusted his tie and looked up to the American authority figure. There were two other people in Mark¡¯s group, both teenagers. They¡¯d already shared names and verified their powers. Nickey Lawson, an excessively slender red headed girl in a long purple bomber jacket that reached her lower thighs and attention-grabbing purple high-top boots with fishnet stockings, held the corner opposite Mark. Nickey had stats that rivaled an MMA prize fighter who could dodge almost anything yet couldn¡¯t tank a hit to save her life. Though her title showed promise. Nickey Lawson Bubbly Assassin
Skills Description
Skull Bash Novice 01 Strength increased by ten points for all relevant body groups when attacking the head with a blunt type weapon.
Flurry Kicks Novice 01 An attack that utilizes ten kicks in ten seconds without stamina cost. Can be used once a day.
Dodge Attack Novice 01 Dodge any single attack regardless of logic one a day.
Throwing Shade Novice 01 Ten percent more accurate when using thrown weapons.
Passives Description
Innate Agility Novice 01 Your agility skills level up ten percent faster than normal.
Curses Description
Evil Rabbit 01 A stuffed rabbit stalks you with murderous intent because of the people you killed for them. It can invade your dreams.
Vital Statistics # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat #
Perception 83 Sight 97 Hearing 81 Touch 77 Awareness 92 Spiritual 79 Nil Nil
Strength 24 Arms 27 Legs 32 Torso 19 Back 11 Grip 20 Nil Nil
Toughness 10 Blunt 09 Slice 04 Pressure 19 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Stamina 89 Heart 99 Lungs 99 Arms 64 Legs 87 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Speed 97 Swim 80 Swing 99 Run 99 Think 83 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Agility 99 Arms 99 Legs 99 Torso 99 Back 77 Fingers 85 Nil Nil
Fortitude 17 Magic Def 09 Mental Def 23 Stability 39 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Intelligence 87 Emotional 43 Scientific 78 Spiritual 38 Interpersonal 44 Bestial 99 Creative 98
Magic 01 Fire 01 Ice 01 Water 01 Wind 01 Earth 01 Nil Nil
Spirit 07 Restoration 01 Illusion 15 Life 05 Dark 00 Light 00 Resistance 71
Luck 51 Money 45 Combat 73 Magic 08 Relational 54 Nil Nil Nil Nil
To the opposite of the businessman in their square formation stood the pro-gamer, Carson James Kidd. The teenager didn¡¯t look like anything special but he had some interesting sniper abilities and a potion boost. He claimed he could fill the role of healer, support, and damage per second as he improved. He had to teach the older ones what DPS meant. Carson James Kidd Overenthusiastic Gamer
Skills Description
No Scope Novice 01 Ranged attack speed increased by 10 percent.
Energy Drink Novice 01 Any and all potions consumed have double the normal effect.
Passives Description
Sleepless Novice 01 Can function without penalty on four hours of sleep a day.
Twitch Novice 01 Reaction Time Enhanced an additional ten percent beyond stat determinates for up to one hour a day.
Curses Description
Energy Drink Side Effects 01 All poisons consumed or inflicted have double the normal effect.
Withdrawal 01 Every hour without using an enhancement substance will result in a ten percent reduction in gain of all stats. Experience gain reset upon using stat enhancing substance.
Vital Statistics # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat #
Perception 70 Sight 69 Hearing 69 Touch 69 Awareness 93 Spiritual 08 Nil Nil
Strength 25 Arms 20 Legs 20 Torso 20 Back 20 Grip 50 Nil Nil
Toughness 25 Blunt 29 Slice 39 Pressure 07 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Stamina 09 Heart 09 Lungs 07 Arms 12 Legs 06 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Speed 34 Swim 01 Swing 02 Run 10 Think 91 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Agility 38 Arms 31 Legs 36 Torso 39 Back 14 Fingers 99 Nil Nil
Fortitude 41 Magic Def 60 Mental Def 17 Stability 23 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Intelligence 77 Emotional 11 Scientific 89 Spiritual 11 Interpersonal 25 Bestial 01 Creative 95
Magic 74 Fire 74 Ice 60 Water 73 Wind 82 Earth 79 Nil Nil
Spirit 23 Restoration 01 Illusion 05 Life 05 Dark 05 Light 05 Resistance 72
Luck 45 Money 39 Combat 52 Magic 54 Relational 33 Nil Nil Nil Nil
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Then there was the businessman. He didn¡¯t get along to well with the teens and seemed to be the weakest link. What was his name, Mark thought, Unko Tanaka? Mark quickly scrolled through the list for Tanaka, oh right, Banko Tanaka. Like a banker or something. Banko Nakamura Overbearing Boss
Skills Description
Paper Cut Novice 01 Can manifest and control the movement of one kilogram worth of paper for one hour a day.
Efficiency Boost Novice 01 Ten percent bonus to teammates stats and abilities at the cost of one sanity per minute when activated.
Sanity Drain Novice 01 Lectures any subordinate to reduce their sanity by ten points a minute so long as the lecture continue. Vastly increases subordinate¡¯s strength, toughness, and fortitude in proportion to the length of the lecture for a maximum of nine minutes. Can not reduce anyone below 10 percent sanity threshold.
Passives Description
Efficiency Up 01 One percent bonus to all party¡¯s perception and intelligence abilities.
Curses Description
Tiring 01 One percent reduction to all party''s stamina abilities.
Vital Statistics # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat #
Perception 87 Sight 94 Hearing 94 Touch 67 Awareness 99 Spiritual 49 Nil Nil
Strength 47 Arms 22 Legs 40 Torso 40 Back 45 Grip 68 Nil Nil
Toughness 15 Blunt 05 Slice 05 Pressure 73 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Stamina 45 Heart 17 Lungs 68 Arms 03 Legs 55 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Speed 32 Swim 01 Swing 04 Run 37 Think 83 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Agility 37 Arms 35 Legs 46 Torso 17 Back 17 Fingers 73 Nil Nil
Fortitude 90 Magic Def 81 Mental Def 99 Stability 99 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Intelligence 78 Emotional 64 Scientific 72 Spiritual 30 Interpersonal 95 Bestial 09 Creative 81
Magic 54 Fire 11 Ice 41 Water 11 Wind 36 Earth 75 Nil Nil
Spirit 07 Restoration 01 Illusion 01 Life 01 Dark 07 Light 04 Resistance 83
Luck 51 Money 49 Combat 29 Magic 49 Relational 59 Nil Nil Nil Nil
¡°Should we get involved?¡± Banko asked, ¡°Do you think that zombie will come for us next? What should we do sir.¡± Mark crossed his arms, ¡°The fat boy has moves. We should recruit him. I doubt the other guy is even human anymore. The fat boy is gaining numbers too, but that other guy isn¡¯t registering anything I can see.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°We have to pick a side,¡± Carson said, ¡°Everyone around us is leveling up their stats and we¡¯re camping. It¡¯s either fight or die. Sure, we can camp here all day, hold your perimeter, but since we¡¯re not getting any stronger by doing that, we¡¯re becoming the next easy target.¡± Mark pulled out his baton and slapped it against his hand, spoke to his group, ¡°That zombie is about over. Easy gains, right? That''s what you said we should aim for. Most of the work has been done for us, so I¡¯m with the gamer. Let¡¯s go give fat boy a hand and level up a bit. Anyone who isn¡¯t feeling up to that can stay here and wait for death.¡± The businessman gulped and pushed up his glass, ¡°Fine, I¡¯m in, let¡¯s... do this level up thing?¡± ¡°Beautiful, but what¡¯sh the plan of attack?¡± Nickey asked with a slight lisp. John Dimms: Unfortunate Spaceman: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY! Mark considered it, ¡°You get his attention, make sure you don¡¯t get hit. You get him in position and I¡¯ll shock him. Let the butcher do the dangerous work though.¡± ¡°And us?¡± Banko and Carson asked together. ¡°Secure the perimeter, if Nickey gets into trouble bail her out. Don¡¯t let her get hit-¡± ¡°Twenty kills and I¡¯ve never taken a direct hit, so don¡¯t underestimate me. Being interfered with by coshmic beings doesn¡¯t count.¡± ¡°As I was saying,¡± Mark continued, ¡°You two hold the perimeter. Warn us if anyone tries to interfere or take advantage.¡± ¡°Fat man ish wounded, let¡¯s get moving,¡± ¡°You heard the girl, spread out!¡± The head of Adonis tilted oddly as blood continued to flow down the side of his clothes. As the sword continued to swing Fedor slowed. A stab to his right missed, then a stab to his right pierced the side of his fatty belly. There was too much target for Fedor to protect and unlike Adonis, he didn¡¯t have unlimited stamina. A girl jumped past them, a red-haired girl with freckles all over her face. The soles of purple high-tops twisted Adonis¡¯s neck as her jump kick landed on target. She flew by and landed on her feet to the side of her target. That kick to the face had been so fierce she honestly thought it would do more. The blunted and bloody katana raised for a swing down over Fedor. Once again, the butcher raised his cleaver to block. He had no choice but to protect his head even if the attack would most likely once again slice open or pierce his middle. ¡°Gyaahhhhhhhhh!¡± Adonis screamed. The swordsman brough his sword back to his side and arched back. The gum laden hair frizzed with burning edges as curls of smoke rose from it. Mark¡¯s baton had extended forward and pushed into Adonis¡¯ side. Enough electricity to drop a much bigger man flowed from the tip of the weapon and would continue for a full twenty seconds. Mark received that juicy stat boost notification with a satisfied smirk, ¡°Need some help big guy!¡± Fedor nodded, exhausted. ¡°Da.¡± 11. Do You Want To See The Rabbit Carson? Azoria smiled towards the bull as she walked back from the curtains while adjusting her hair. Returning to the podium, she peered out over the cave. "Moggy baby, everyone is so dour, do you think some music would lighten the mood?" The bull nodded. It''s mouth fell open to reveal a dark gaping chasm. The tail straightened and then curved at a ninety degree angle, then curved a the same angle again until it resembled a crank. It turned. A bass beat blasted forward throughout the cave from the open mouth. Florescent lighting flickered before the walls of the cave began to undulate. Circular patterns formed at various intervals. The beat boomed from all directions. Smaller circles formed at regular intervals around the larger circles. A high-pitched striking sound joined between the bass notes. Low-key chanting from the monks of chaos interrupted itself discordantly at regular intervals. Screams and babbles formed a background amidst the harsh beat. A list of four more fatalities bellowed from the speakers as Adonis received his electrocution. Mark didn¡¯t reserve any of his power for the day. It was a short burst of time, but the electricity was far more impressive than he ever thought possible. It felt like he conducted energy from some pocket in his body, though now that pocket had been drained and he¡¯d be reduced to an ordinary blunt weapon. But he had leveled, he could sense it. When he checked his stats later he knew he¡¯d be at least a bit stronger. Streams of smoke rose from the tips of Adonis¡¯s charred hair, his burnt fingernails, and the gaping neck wound that revealed glowing bone when he tilted his head the wrong way. The gum looked like charred meat on hair skewers. The man stood, burning on the inside from the full force of Mark¡¯s power with blank eyes. Smoke poured from his mouth as he stood. Nickey relaxed her combat posture, ¡°Did you hear that? Someone killed a magical girl! That¡¯s unforgivable!¡± Fedor took the opportunity to slowly back up. Nothing critical had been wounded but he bled heavily from deep jagged slices into his fatty sides. His cleaver remained ready as he stared at the halted berserker, who still defied all of them by remaining standing with the sword clutched tightly in his hand. ¡°That tickled!¡± Adonis screamed, ¡°I want to see the stick of Fundleburg. Have you not seen the flute!?¡± Nickey tensed and then ran in a circle to get behind the enemy. She twirled as she raised her leg and bought it against his neck. Perhaps if she could separate the head from the body this nightmare would end. A flurry of kicks invisible to the naked eye slammed into the back of Adonis¡¯s head and neck. Vertebrae snapped, crackled, and popped as his head listed but refused to come loose. As the last kick landed, she slowed to normal speed. An arm came up; his hand gripped her ankle and squeezed. Nickey found herself in the air being swung like a club. She used her hands to protect her head and kept her mouth shut as she found her right shoulder bashed against the floor. ¡°GOOBER SNAZLES CAVEMAN STYLE!¡± Adonis screamed as he dropped the unconscious assassin and twirled his sword for her midsection. ¡°Dude, why can¡¯t you just stop?¡± Carson whispered. A string of paper formed around Nickey¡¯s ankles but the tie was too thin and Banko didn¡¯t have the strength to pull her away. The paper snapped apart and shriveled into nothing. A low punch slammed into Adonis¡¯s torso from the side. Ribs crunched clearly as he slid back. That was all Fedor had, as his jackhammer punch had been used earlier. Adonis clutched his sword in both hands and raised it high over his head. Fedor raised his cleaver with the blade facing horizontally outward. His left hand served to support the back of the thick blade. ¡°Creatures like you are an insult to the goddess. I¡¯ll slice and grind you like the meat you are.¡± With Adonis distracted, Mark scooped up Nickey and carried her back behind Carson, ¡°She¡¯s out, protect her with your life kid.¡± This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ¡°Okay.¡± Mark didn¡¯t rejoin the battle, with his trump card exhausted and Nickey on the floor, he wasn¡¯t sure how effective he could be. If that much electricity had done so little, what would a few strikes with a blunt baton achieve? The best he could do was divert attention, but he refused to be bait. He could try this magic stuff though; his wind magic hadn¡¯t looked too shabby and his mana was the same as everyone else¡¯s. He concentrated and found a ball of swirling wind in his palm. It even looked potent enough to do some damage. He aimed it as Adonis but it veered off target. Then he had an idea. ¡°Carson, you¡¯re up! Use your magic and blast this-¡± A shadow loomed over Carson. A seven-and-a-half-foot tall purple rabbit mascot that resembled an animatronic focused on Nickey. It had red eyes that glowed dimly, long floppy ears with faded fur, and wore farmer¡¯s overalls with a straw hat. The rabbit pointed at Nickey before opening its mouth to reveal a gleaming metal pair of incisors. It released an ear-piercing screech that disoriented everyone nearby except for Adonis. ¡°W-w-where d-did this come from!?¡± Carson kicked it, then threw a punch. It simply stood still with no reaction to the attacks. Then it moved fast. A punch to the gut caused Carson to spit up over his chin. Next a kick to the side popped his hip and slid him away from Nickey. Going melee when his stats suggested otherwise didn¡¯t make sense, he thought, he wasn¡¯t going to get anywhere by copying the others. With a bit of concentration, he formed an ice spike above the palm of his right hand and cast it into the rabbit. The spike ripped through the overalls and broke the fur before it came out the other side of the rabbit. A depth of darkness, and then the light of the exit hole could be seen. The rabbit was hollow. Mark decided to join the target practice from a safer distance. But his attacks didn¡¯t do much beyond annoy the mascot, though he noticed fire singed the fur and lasted a bit longer. He turned to Carson. ¡°Use a fire ball!¡± A burning ball of flame formed above Carson¡¯s right hand, another in his left hand. They doubled in size as the flames swirled with a bright burning collection of reds, oranges, and yellows. The more robust fireballs hit the rabbit, on in the torso and the other directly in the face. The flammable suit burst from ear to toe. The now crackling rabbit sprinted towards Carson with a flaming fist. A punch to the gut left a burn mark in his shirt. A kick to the same spot followed the punch. Carson went up. As he came back down, the flaming rabbit kneed him in the gut. Flames ran along his body and licked at his back as his eyes went blank. He fell limply to the floor as the rabbit put its forepaws together to slam them down into his back. Before the attack could land, the burning rabbit mascot puffed out of existence leaving on a trail of smoke and the smell of burning leather. Nickey sat up, rubbing her shoulder. As her vision returned, she surveyed the field. She saw Carson laying on his stomach. Small remnant flames licked at his shirt as they burnt through to skin. Frantically she rushed to pat out the flames, ¡°What happened to you!?¡± Meanwhile, Fedor tanked Adonis¡¯ attacks by himself. Cuts formed along the back of his hands and fingers from a wild flurry of strikes. Not only did he bleed from the side but his pants had been sliced and the blood ran down his legs. ¡°The wheels on blob go round and round! ROUND AND ROUND!¡± Adonis sung repeatedly at the top of his screeching voice. Air hissed from his wounded neck. Bubbles of blood and saliva frothed from the cleaver wound. Fedor waited for an opening, taking attack after attack, and blocking with all the stamina he had left. Then he burst into a swing with the last of his reserved stamina. ¡°YaaaaaAAAAHHHH!¡± The blade of the cleaver flew into the slice. Vertebrae separated. Flesh squelched. Adonis¡¯ head tumbled off his wounded neck as it laughed. The body remained standing and kept hold of the sword. ¡°Pokey! Pokey! Stabby! Stabby! Shish-kebab!¡± The chipped katana pushed through the center of Fedor as it lodged into his stomach. Clink! The imitation katana sunk in almost as deep as it could before it gave up. The blade cracked at the base and broke. Adonis¡¯ body pulled back a stub. An empty neck craned as if there was head with eyes to look at it. Fedor coughed blood. Adonis'' head rolled and laughed. ¡°The blade in the blob go slice, gush, gash! Shish ka-blob!¡± A crack followed a squirt of wet matter. The man who had been blocking Adonis¡¯s attacks earlier with his shield ability, still bleeding from his wounds, rushed in and attacked the disembodied head with the edge of a wood shield growing from his wrist. The attacks mashed it into an unrecognizable pile of flesh, hair, bone, and brain matter. The body shivered. Fingers uncoiled around the hilt of the broken blade. It clattered against the floor. The body of Adonis fell backwards with a meaty thump. An anouncement bellowed throughout the cave slightly louder than the other death announcements. Circe Oratia Sheffield: Heartbeat Zero: FATALITY! 12 + 1 = Unlucky Number Two young women struggled against each other. They rolled on the ground. One pulled hair. The other gouged eyes. Azoria stood over them with her body tilting. The spaded tail waved idly behind her back as she held her hands extended from her sides raised from her wrists in a stretch. ¡°How dare she be more beautiful than you. It¡¯s only fair that you serve up a little justice. Oh, look at that, your strength has gone up and your grip has improved. I bet you can rip the hair right out of her pretty little head.¡± Simultaneously another Azoria kneeled behind the girl whose back was on the floor. This girl squeezed her thumbs into the other girl¡¯s eyes as her hair was pulled. ¡°She has such beautiful eyes and she uses them to get what she wants. Don¡¯t let her out compete you. Take them from her!¡± Hair ripped from flesh. An eye popped with wet gurgling smashing. Azoria licked her lips, drank from her glass, and moved on. The two women, one missing a chunk of scalp and the other missing an eye, fell over one another, exhausted. The walls of the cave began to undulate. Circular patterns formed at various intervals. Azoria twirled and snapped her fingers. A bass beat boomed from all directions just loud enough to not be missed. It needed some treble. Azoria twirled and snapped her fingers again. Smaller circles formed at regular intervals around the bigger circles. A high-pitched striking sound joined between the bass notes. Finally, it was timed for the chanting of low-key monks interrupted discordantly at regular intervals. ----- As the music picked up, Megan found herself alive again. She patted her office uniform while taking deep controlled breath and then felt for the wound shot through her head. Her forehead had no such wound anymore. A lucky silver dime still rested in her other hand. ¡°I¡¯m still alive?¡± She scrolled through her powers. It was that passive. Diminishing Returns 01: Once a day, upon receiving a fatal wound, you will revive yourself at full health at the cost of a permanent ten percent reduction of your original height, width, and length. Full damage immunity for five minutes upon revival. Weight and body structure will be altered acordingly. All Strength and Toughness Stats will be reduced by ten percent their original value. Was this why her uniform felt a little loose? Megan got to her feet. The disembodied cat face with bat wings, her mascot, flew around her head. Annoying Mascot 01: An annoyingly weak mascot who gives obvious advice and useless commentary has twenty minutes a day to help you as best it can. Take good care of it. ¡°Megan, Megan, we have to get nyout of here! If you take anyather hit like that you¡¯ll be dead for nyareals!¡± ¡°My own team targeted me for easy experience! Where¡¯s Dims?¡± ¡°They killed him too! They¡¯re using him to level up their rez and dps abilities.¡± Megan looked about as she tightened the belt on her skirt. The former secretary was now five feet tall. The revival skill worked exactly as described. Because she had been scaled down, her shoes no longer fit properly and her blouse had become baggy. The friendly little cat-bat, also one of her abilities, appeared for a limited time when there was trouble. Megan noted a wand ability as well, but since she possessed neither a wand or a staff, she hadn¡¯t paid much attention to whatever it did. The mascot vanished out of existence when she wasn¡¯t paying attention to it, probably to save the limited amount of time per day it had with her. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. The loafers had to be abandoned. They¡¯d just trip her. She looked for John and the other two girls that had betrayed them. It didn¡¯t take long to see the shimmering light surrounding John as he floated in the air. His wounds healed and he began to blink. A girl below him lifted her hand and raised her costume party staff. ¡°I cast lucky coin!¡± A pile of silver dimes manifested in her palm. The sorceress bought her palm to her lips and opened her hand, took a deep breath, and blew. The coins shot forward as if out of the barrel of a shotgun and peppered John¡¯s body. Blood gushed from both entrance and exit wounds. The body jolted and dropped to the floor with a thud. Eyes stared vacantly. Mouth hung open. Nose dripped mucus as he extended his open hand reaching for Megan, who could hear his silent pleas for rescue. The short woman gripped her clothes and watched as his body lifted again. The wounds began healing and his eyes flickered open. He gasped and flinched against recalled pain. ¡°I cast lucky coin!¡± Thirteen silver coins shot towards his body. They knocked out his teeth, exploded his eyes, tore off his left ear, opened holes in his forehead and out the back of his skull, and destroyed even more of his Mendy¡¯s server uniform. Megan felt her stomach turn, and yet, she couldn¡¯t look away. The body thumped to the floor with a splat in the doubled pool of blood underneath it. Once again, he lay, this time with no eyes and tear from his lip that exposed the broken teeth. A soft voice giggled behind her. Megan felt soft hands with sharp fingernails rake her decreased frame, ¡°Look at him, mister nice guy himself. He trusted them. You trusted them. And what do you get in return, target practice. Do you want to be target practice too? You¡¯re smaller and even more vulnerable. And your resurection ability is inactive for the next twenty-four hours.¡± Megan shivered, tears ran down her cheeks and dripped on the floor as John¡¯s body rose again and his wounds began the healing process that would allow him to be revived. Azoria breathed a hot whisper into the girl¡¯s ear. ¡°Look at their skills.¡± Megan hurriedly opened the reference tab and went through the names. What if the girls had given false names? She¡¯d never find them. Megan gulped; she¡¯d know soon enough. No, they were on the list, Lizbet and Janelle. She focused on Lizbet¡¯s relevant skill first. Lucky Coin Novice 05: Manifests a pile of thirteen lucky coins. These coins can be shot with high acceleration at a living target with fifty percent increased accuracy over normal spells. If the target dies within five minutes, the spell can be cast again. If the target survives past the five minutes, the spell goes on cooldown for three days. Then she shifted focus to Janelle and looked up her revive skill. Useless Revival Novice 01: Can revive a target once a day. If the target is killed within five minutes after revival, this skill can be used again. If the target survives past five minutes, the caster¡¯s heart explodes. Levels into Mean Revival. Eyes opened. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Squirming to escape his revive circle did nothing. Chunks of loosely digested food poured down already torn and blood-stained clothing as his pants stained yellow. Head craned. Eyes darted frantically and caught Megan¡¯s watching him. ¡°Help me! It hurts! I don¡¯t want to die again!¡± Lizbet waved her wand and opened her hand. ¡°I cast Lucky coin!¡± Coins shot forward. Chunks of flesh ripped from his neck and shoulder. The left arm fell to the floor. Fingers still twitched. The body hit the floor in time with the music pouring from the cave. Megan put a pale hand to her mouth. The contents of her stomach flowed into it but she forced herself to swallow before they escaped. Knees trembled as she stepped back as tears rained around her stocking feet. The two casters remained too busy grinding their respective skills to notice her flee. The body reached for her desperately as she ran. Janelle walked forward and gave it a good kick. When she heard a gurgle the hunting knife she had picked up from a fight earlier came out. Her sneaker clamped down on the neck before the knife went through the skull. She stood up and reurned the bloody knife to her belt. Blood seeped from the fresh corpse to pool under her. "How much mana do you have?" "It''s at about twenty, but my magic stats have broken into triple digets from all this training," Lizbet said, "It''s hard to tell with mana exactly because the number moves up and down. Maybe the system doesn''t want us to know the exact number?" "Really, I noticed my mana bar does that too! We should reserve our strength for now. Got any more tea?" "I have four bottles, and we can still use the empties to gather water." The case next to her foot lifted back over her shoulder. Lizbet opened the flap to reveal a small cooler compartment with a few bottles of tea, some wrapped sandwiches, and some snacks. A heartfelt smile was offered to her friend, whose stomach growled. "Are you hungry? We''ll have to eat these sandwiches before they go bad anyway,'' she said with a cute laugh, "Maybe they''ll help refuel our mana so we can practice some more." 13. In The Spirit Of Fairness Circe Oratia Sheffield: Heartbeat Zero: FATALITY! Alfredo turned around and ran back to the body he had set upon the floor so gingerly just moments ago. He knelt down and shook her shoulder. Breath still released from between her lips, though it became increasingly thin and accompanied by a gurgle. His hand pushed against her chest. ¡°Hey, hey! Yuh can¡¯t just die to spite me. That ain¡¯t right.¡± He stood up and screamed at the top of his booming voice, ¡°Hey, I need a doctor over here, this lady is dyin'' here!¡± He knelt back down and pushed his hands against his face. They pressed deeply against his skin for a moment. A breath tried to escape her throat but her body became increasingly pale and clammy. His fingers pressed against her sternum firmly but felt no rhythm. Yet her body shook and her back tensed in a gurgling struggle to breathe. He slapped her cheek. ¡°C¡¯mon, c¡¯mon, snap out of it. Circe! Circe! Circe!¡± Knuckles cracked before fingers interlocked. Alfredo lifted his joined hands with every intention of slamming them full force against her sternum. He stopped himself but still tapped her sternum with enough force. Tha-dump. Panicking wouldn¡¯t help her. He shook his head. Brute force would only make it worse. A soft giggle was heard behind him. Sharp nails gently raked his shoulder blades as a spaded tail twirled against his skull into the graying hair just above his ear. He intertwined hands into one great ham-fist tensed above the technically already dead woman. A soft laughing whisper blew into his ear. ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to save her? Too bad, you can¡¯t. But you can break her. Use that strength of yours to smash her sternum into itty bitty pieces. Because that¡¯s what¡¯s going to happen if an oaf like you tries to help. You break everything you touch.¡± Those wide-open eyes of the dead woman stared at him accusingly. He lifted his enclosed hands high and aimed for her chest. An overly enthusiastic voice filled his head. ¡°Getting along with my coworkers is immpossible, and I think its my fault. Mostly. But once I save enough money, I¡¯m going to open a bookstore, probably somewhere in Kent. I¡¯ll sell novels, post cards, stationary, and souvenirs to tourists. I won¡¯t be rich or anything, but I¡¯m sure I can earn enough to be happy.¡± A finger ran along his neck. Then it traced the edges of his outer ear. ¡°You would have died in the river if you weren¡¯t here, and it¡¯s all her fault.¡± His ham fist coiled upwards and above his head and he slammed it down towards Circe¡¯s chest with a battle cry. ¡°You never paid me back!¡± It slowed just above her sternum but the momentum couldn¡¯t be stopped. The ham-fist hit with enough force to cause her back to arch and legs to kick slightly. Tha-dump. He pulled himself back on his hands and knees. Fingers went outstretched on the floor. Tears dripped against his thumb, then landed in drops between his hands. ¡°Yuh can¡¯t die, yuh never paid me back. I only met yuh once in all my life. None of this should work like any of this ain''t workin''! Yuh never paid me back. Circe, do yuh hear me! Yuh can¡¯t just gimme the finger and die like that! Yuh never paid me back! I said get up! Get up! Get up! In duh spirit of fairness, get up please!¡± A fist pounded into the unforgiving floor. Forehead smacked down and pressed into the flat surface. He screamed for as long as he had breath. Then he pulled himself up and reached over to close the poor woman¡¯s eyes. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. She, in the spirit of fairness, deserved that much. ----- Behind the beating walls of the cave large were hidden rooms and inside those rooms were large oval glass flasks filling with the liquid solution of raw human emotions. Red liquid bubbled and frothed in secret rooms on all four sides of the cave and a fifth above them. When the liquid reached the top of the flasks, it began to glow brighter to fill the empty rooms with harsh red light. But only a few of the flasks had filled. The mechanism to light the beacon of Azor could not be triggered without a greater sacrifice. Azoria leaned over the podium and tapped the wood with her index finger as she rested her cheek on her other hand. Red glowing eyes glared between the bull and the empty podium shelf with finger indents crumbling each side. ¡°They¡¯re not killing one another fast enough. Does this batch think they¡¯re special or something?¡± The bull continued cranking out a bass line as its tail turned like a wound gear. Azoria tapped her finger and lowered her eyelids. Mogg-dell had left the cavern, at least for now. ¡°Ugghhh! I have to do everything myself. No fair.¡± Her cheeks puffed out until she heard something at least mildly interesting. A party of five had banded together to challenge her. They had an archer, a fire mage, a damage knight, a tanking knight, and a healer. No need to bother about checking names or powers. She already mostly forgot what she gave them anyway. Some worthless generic trash powers because they were only here to help light the beacon. How cute. They were planning a strategy to lure her down from the stage but they couldn¡¯t come up with anything. She appeared in the middle of their group. The figure they were watching on stage rolled her eyes and then ducked under the podium. ¡°Hi!¡± They dispersed and took positions around the form that manifested in the center of their group. Azoria stretched, raised her tail, and gave a big yawn. The tank, a fairly muscular guy in jeans and a tank top stood a few inches over six foot tall. The archer, a short girl with sharp eyes and demeaning scowl, bit her knuckle. The damage knight hid behind the taller man. The wizard was ready with a dual cast fireball, his class being one of the few that didn¡¯t need gear to use abilities. And finally, the healer, a young man in his twenties who had been studying medicine or something. Upon closer examination, Azoria narrowed her eyes. As vanilla as this group was, they had managed to stay out of trouble and were hatching cunning plans against her. it almost felt threatening. Cheeks puffed out as she scanned them. What was she missing here? ¡°I¡¯ve decided to spare four of you. Please choose who will be sacrificed within, let¡¯s say, five minutes. If you fail to provide a unanimous choice, then I¡¯m going to sacrifice you all to Moggy.¡± ¡°Unacceptable!¡± they shouted in near unison. The tall man came forward just slightly, ¡°We died together in our van after you stopped us on a mountain side and caused a land slide.¡± A finger went to the side of her lip. Her brow furrowed slightly. The tail wrapped around her left leg and poked the top of her bare foot. ¡°I don¡¯t remember that, that doesn¡¯t sound imaginative at all. Are you sure it wasn¡¯t another succubus demon lord?¡± Azoria raised a hand. A small skull with an open mouth burst into flames as hushed high pitch sounds escaped its mouth. The skull clacked its jaws repeatedly as it bobbed up and down while rotating. The shorter male who had been hiding behind the taller came forward and looked Azoria in the eye. ¡°We don¡¯t even have weapons or armor lady! How is any of this fair? At least give us a fighting chance.¡± Azoria blew a weak raspberry that faded fast as she snapped the fingers of her other hand. The archer found a bow of carved oak in her hand and quiver full of arrows on her back. Fine leather armor appeared over her clothes along with a leather helmet. The tank wore steel plate armor with a steel shield and a short sword to compliment his skills. The other knight wore chain mail armor and found himself holding a large two-handed steel sword. The healer wore full mana-diamond infused carbon alloy armor with joints that allowed for flexibility. The mage received a gnarled wooden staff, a gray robe, and a pointy hat. The party looked at each other and checked their equipment as Azoria gave them a moment to adjust. The fiery skull continued to bounce as Azoria¡¯s feet sunk into the floor. She shifted her hips and huffed at them. ¡°Okay, times up, no sacrifice is chosen. In the spirit of fairness, I won¡¯t instantly sacrifice you because that would be mean and you¡¯d probably hold it against me.¡± The demon lord continued to sink in the floor. The flat granite hid her body from the chest down as she raised her arm and let the fiery skull bounce and clatter loudly on her palm. One bloodshot eye darted back and forth to glance at each member of the party. Flames puffed outward from the jaw and the goopy hair-like residue clinging to the parietal and occipital bones. ¡°But since I gave you all that free gear, it¡¯s only fair that you put this cute little guy out of his misery, toodles.¡± The last thing to sink under the floor was her hand, which left the flaming skull hovering a few inches as it rolled and bobbed with a clickety-clack of teeth. The group readied themselves, watching it carefully. Clickety clack, clickety clack, clickety clickety, clickety clack. 14. Clickity Clackity Clook. The skull bobbed up and down as it surveyed the party with a wretched series of pops and clicks. The team didn¡¯t take it lightly, they spread out and established their distance without turning their back on it. ¡°What does it do?¡± asked the shorter knight. The tank raised his shield and made sure to back away slowly. He directed the damage knight with the two-handed sword to stay behind him. With his eyes he took command and indicated the others should back away slowly and defensively. They would wait for it to do whatever the demon lord designed it to do without fleeing and exposing their backs to it. Their formation felt unbalanced though. ¡°Derk, take position in front of Carrie. Ralph should take cover behind me as he¡¯s the least protected and does the most damage. Carrie, use your enhancement skill to improve Derk¡¯s defense so we have two tanks. Yull should play the field but stick close enough to either Derk or myself to take cover if her needs to. I have a feeling we¡¯ll be relying pretty heavily on that healing skill.¡± Nobody gave an argument or grumbled about receiving directions. They took formation around the skull as the tank instructed. The skull didn¡¯t register a complaint as it hovered unstably over the ground while clicking its jaw as if on unstable wings. They watched one another. Clickity Clickity Clickity ¡°It¡¯s not really doing anything. Should we make the first move?¡± Derk asked. Sweat formed on the forehead and palms of the tank. This new armor proved both heavy and hot and it didn¡¯t help that he held a big steel shield. The longer he waited, the more the stamina in his arms drained and the heavier the shield felt. The steel sword¡¯s hilt began to feel slippery against his palm. ¡°Just keep watching it, back up slowly and keep your distance.¡± The healer looked paranoid, ¡°What if it¡¯s a trap, what if the real attack is going to come from somewhere else while we¡¯re mucking about with this skull?¡± Carrie looked around the cavern. There were still ongoing fights and a slow trickle of death announcements. The vast majority conserved their powers and quickly fled from any sign of danger, so the carnage wasn¡¯t as bad as she thought it might be. Nobody nearby looked ready or willing to attack a well-organized party that had somehow obtained intimidating looking weapons and gear to complement their abilities. The tank reinforced his grip on the hilt. ¡°The demon lord said she¡¯d play fair, remember? This skull is our opponent. We can¡¯t afford to drop our guard against it.¡± ¡°And from the looks of things,¡± Carrie said, ¡°We¡¯re now the only ones here with actual weapons and armor. Anyone who tries to break our formation would be asking for trouble.¡± The skull innocently hopped up and down in circles above the floor, eyeing them as it waited patiently. An occasional lick of flame escaped from its mouth. Clickity. ¡°Could we maybe try poking it?¡± Derk asked. ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± warned Ralph. The tank didn¡¯t have any suggestions for or against this strategy as he kept his eyes trained on the skull and continued to sweat. Ralph side stepped out from behind his tank and closer to the healer. Derk gripped his two-handed sword so tightly that his knuckles cracked under his leather gauntlets. The wooden bow remained trained on anyone from outside the group who looked like they might take advantage and Carrie¡¯s eagle eye scanned the cave for any signs of the demon lord preparing to attack them. The skull continued to float around, up and down while clicking and clacking. Yet it always watched at least one of them. Sometimes the little hairs sticking to the back of the occipital bone waved as it moved. More flicks of flame escaped the mouth as if it was full of lighter fluid. The eye darted back and forth. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! ¡°It¡¯s a fire type, right,¡± Ralph said, ¡°Let me try hitting it with a water attack. I don¡¯t have to get close to it. Just standing here doing nothing is driving me insane.¡± ¡°That noise is driving me crazy... sanity,¡± Carrie whispered, then she spoke up clearly, ¡°Guys, check your sanity!¡± The tank kept his line of sight on the skull but nodded to indicate that the healer should check his sanity first. Yull bought the purple bar that wavered longer and shorter into view. It didn¡¯t look diminished all that much. And everyone here suffered from exposure to Mogg-dell¡¯s sanity waning presence. Carrie checked next, then Ralph, and then Derk. There was no noticeable drain on their sanity meters. They took their eyes off the skull to look toward their tank. Clammy skin oozed a cool dampness as his legs shook. ¡°I can¡¯t take me eyes off this thing. It¡¯s going to kill us all if I look away.¡± ¡°We got it Mike, check your sanity.¡± ¡°My sanity bar is fine!¡± ¡°Then show us.¡± Mike hilted the sword but remained in firm command of his shield. The skull bounced about in a circle as the bar displayed. The sanity bar swung only ever so slightly lower than those of the others. Though Mike constantly kept an eye on the skull in the center of their circle as he closed his parameter screen. The sword returned to his sweaty palm. ¡°Maybe we can roast marshmallows over it?¡± Yull said. The tank took a breath. Having a staring contest with this mob wasn¡¯t getting them anywhere. This was the tutorial, right, how hard could it be? It was small and unassuming if a bit gross. And yet, he couldn¡¯t hold his sword straight. The heel of his right leg began to rise and fall in an obvious shake. Breathing became shallow and uneven as any minute he thought he might lose control of his bladder functions. He didn¡¯t want to die. ¡°Hit it with a water shot,¡± Mike said, slightly choking on his words and trying not to drop his shield, ¡°But keep your distance.¡± ¡°No problem, one water shot coming right up.¡± The gnarled wooden staff raised as Ralph stood behind his shielded tank and the well armored healer. The tank had closest position to the gory human skull with one roving eye. A ball of water shot forward from the back of the position and blasted the fiery skull. It didn¡¯t even try to dodge. Clickety- blarble garrr blorp. The fire went out. The skull laid motionless on the smooth granite floor of the cave. ¡°Derk, finish it!¡± The two-handed steel sword raised as the knight rushed forward. A slash came down to smash the drowned skull in half. The skull slid out from under the strike and bounced upwards. CLANG! The sword hit the granite. It put a chunk in the ground as the force of the strike made Derk¡¯s elbow pop. As the skull fell, it opened its mouth and landed over the sword. Teeth clamped the blade. CRINK! The steel blade broke between the teeth. The edge fell to the floor, a small piece remained in the skull¡¯s mouth, and a not unsignificant stub of a broken two-handed sword remained in Derk¡¯s hands as he stepped backwards. The skull coughed, choked and sputtered. It wretched and gagged gray slimy liquid shot in spurts from its mouth instead of flame. ¡°Blech, gluuuch, uruuumm, Huuruuf! Huuruuf! Bleeech!¡± ¡°Maybe it bit off more than it could chew?¡± Ralph said, ¡°Maybe it¡¯s dying?¡± With a great cough, the skull finally spit a slimy wet ball that rolled onto the floor. The flame renewed. It bounced once again, just as before, only slightly faster. Clickity-clack-clickity-clack-clack-clack. Nearby, a smaller skull began to orbit the larger fire skull. Its glimmering bone structure shone like polished steel. Instead of fire, water gushed out its mouth and pooled on the floor. The fire skull hovered over the puddle and began evaporating the water. ¡°Um, guys, what do we do now,¡± Carrie said, ¡°There¡¯s two of them.¡± The steel skull grew slowly until it matched its parent. They both continued to circle one another and make trickles of steam rise when the hot skull touched the water, but they didn¡¯t attack. However, they never stopped watching. Those eyes darted back and forth among the party as they waited. ¡°Maybe run?¡± ¡°If there is anything I''m of certain of, it¡¯s this,¡± Mike said, ¡°The minute we break ranks, at least two of us are going to die. And there¡¯s no telling who it¡¯s going to be.¡± ¡°This is insanity,¡± Carrie notched an arrow and took aim at the fire skull, ¡°That¡¯s exactly what she wants us to think.¡± ¡°Carrie no!¡± The arrow flew true to course. The fire skull made no move to avoid it. The drowned steel skull jumped in with the save. It bit down hard on the arrow in mid air and ate it before landing with a click. Choking, and gagging resumed. The party stood in place, unsure if they should even take advantage. ¡°Are you kiddin me on, that¡¯s bloody impossible!¡± The steel skull rolled around the flame skull as it coughed, gagged, and gurgled. A loud hacking cough produced a mini one-eyed skull bouncing on the floor. Arrowhead shaped spikes grew from every remotely smooth portion of the bone as a small eye roped by withered tendons darted about in the left socket. The collection of skulls danced to the music of the cave, bouncing to the bass and treble notes in the center of an increasingly agitated party of adventurers. Clickety-Click Clack-Click Clack-Clickety Clickety-Click! 15. Clacking Intensifies The three skulls continued their odd dance to the strange phonk music playing from the walls of the vast cavern. There was now a fiery skull, a wet steel skull, and skull covered with sharp gleaming arrowheads. Carrie notched another arrow with a slight arch of her back, but she relaxed the string and looked to the others for direction. Mike looked terrified, Ralph looked puzzled, Yull looked tense, and Derk sweat with a red face in obvious frustration. The three skulls refused to do anything other than float around and make annoying noises while darting their eyes back and forth between the members of the party. Yet they refused to attack the skulls after their last attacks resulted in a broken sword, one less arrow, and the appearance of two new mobs. This time, one of the skulls became exhausted of waiting. The arrowhead skull shot up in the air and spun around like it was in the center of a washing machine. ¡°YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!¡± The screech pierced their ears. Mike couldn¡¯t cover his without dropping his shield and sword, so he endured it. Only Ralph and Yull were able to cover their ears. Carrie endured it and Derk stepped back while wincing. Arrows pelted them. Carrie used her skill, bow blocking, which allowed her to block incoming volleys of any size with her bow once a day. This saved her and Derk from the incoming fire. Mike hid behind his shield to remain unharmed. Yull was saved by his armor, as the arrows didn¡¯t hit with much penetrating force. Ralph, who had stopped to plug his ears, took two arrowheads; One stuck deeply in his left thigh and another lodged in his shoulder just above the collar bone. There was a scratch on the back of his right hand where another had grazed him. Everyone glanced at Ralph as the skull dropped in return to the dance. Yull looked a bit dumbfounded before realizing he was the healer. He cast basic restoration. It didn¡¯t work, at least not nearly as well as he thought it should. Ralph winced as he pulled out the bone arrowhead from his thigh. He felt a tingle as blood leaked from the wound and wet his jeans under the robes. ¡°Really effective healing magic doctor,¡± he groaned, feeling perhaps a mild pain relief from Yull¡¯s best efforts, ¡°Aren¡¯t healers supposed to actually heal?¡± ¡°About as effective as your water spell! Aren¡¯t mages supposed to mage!?¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t even make any sense! I¡¯m doing my bloody best here! If you wouldn¡¯t have parked us right under a land-slide we¡¯d be in Inverness living it up at the pub instead of this horror of a place fighting skulls.¡± ¡°You have no way of knowing that for certain,¡± Yull said, ¡°And everyone agreed to stop. It wasn¡¯t my decision. You can¡¯t go and blame me just because it happened to be my turn to drive.¡± The points returned to the third skull, slowly extending, and sharpening as the skulls bounced around each other. The first skull jumped, opened its mouth wide and released a burst of bright blue flame that heated Mike¡¯s steel shield. The handle of the already heavy accessory began to burn through his gauntlet. The shield clattered to the floor as Mike shook his burnt right hand, though he continued to wield the steel sword with his right. The fire skull returned to the group with a harsh series of clicks and resumed bouncing. The steel shield glowed a bit red at the edge. Mike pulled off his hot gauntlet and felt skin separate to remain inside before he threw it aside. A thick burn wound stripped of the topmost layer of skin ran along the length of his palm over a centimeter wide. Yull darted over to the wounded tank. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. ¡°Restoration!¡± The wound glimmered slightly as Mike felt a slight pain relief and a tightness in his palm. Sweat beaded on Yull¡¯s forehead as he sensed his mana already approaching the first point of depletion. Why wouldn¡¯t the wound just heal? Why was their magic worthless!? ¡°My restoration is at 99, there¡¯s no way my powers should be this weak! I¡¯m maxed out, it¡¯s the highest it can go!¡± Ralph pushed his hand into the bleeding puncture above his collar bone, ¡°My water magic is almost as high and that water beam hit like a Pound-puller squirt gun. Maybe the stats aren¡¯t capped at one hundred?¡± ¡°So basic attacks and magic are going to do absolutely nothing against these things? Our only chance is to use our special abilities?¡± Carrie pushed her hair back, ¡°Our regular attacks do nothing, swords do nothing, our magic does nothing. We¡¯re not much better off with this gear.¡± The steel skull bounced in the air with an open jaw. A splash of water hit Derk in the chest with the power of a garden hose. He stood fuming as he found himself soaking wet. Carrie began laughing and Yull joined her. The broken two-handed sword suddenly dropped from Derk''s hands. It clattered in front of the bouncing formation of skulls. A slow trickle of blood dripped from both Derk¡¯s wrists. ¡°I-I I can¡¯t move my hands right!¡± Yull stopped laughing and ran toward Derk without thinking, cutting through the formation of skulls. The skulls jumped at him for violating their space. Teeth clamped onto his mana-diamond infused carbon fiber armor. It fared better than the steel at first as it refused to submit to the pressure of the bites. He shook the fire skull and the arrowhead skull off his armor only to suffer scratches to the sheen. The water skull bit down harder. A slurry like liquid drooled from its mouth as it varied the pressure on the armor over Yull¡¯s upper left arm. He ran out of the formation so the other skulls wouldn¡¯t attack him again, then punched the skull biting his armor. The steel jaw refused to unclamp. Instead, it bit down with renewed pressure. The withered tendon aimed the eye''s gaze downward at the carbon fiber plate as a groan of protest issued from the metal. Carrie readied an arrow and her aim proved true, but it simply bounced off the steel surface of the parietal bone. At the very least, nothing ate her arrow. ¡°I can¡¯t move my hands! I can¡¯t move my hands!¡± Mike winced at his burn as he suffered Derk¡¯s screaming. During the entire road trip, he had to endure Derk¡¯s constant teasing and flirting with Carrie. He had to watch from a distance as they made out at every road stop, as one of his best friends kissed the lips and put his hand down the shirt of the woman who had promised herself to him eleven years ago. He picked up his cooling shield and couldn¡¯t help but think that if Derk died here, Carrie could be his again. The steel skull stressed the carbon fiber of Yull¡¯s armor with its constant biting until carbon cracked over his upper left shoulder. A portion of carbon fiber was captured inside the steel jaw. ¡°YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!¡± The arrow skull shot up and twirled with that high pitched sonic screech that caused the party pain. An arrowhead flew inside the jagged hole of the compromised armor to pierce Yull¡¯s arm. A slender spray of blood flew into Derk¡¯s face before the bleeding calmed. Carrie suffered several arrowheads pelting against her chest, waist, and hips and got knocked over. Mike reached out for her even though she fell on the other side of the formation, only to have an arrow pierce the burn and lodge into his palm. Blood trickled down his side from being grazed by another arrow as he scraped the bone arrowhead over the edge of his shield until it fell free from his palm. Ralph flinched behind his staff, squinting while breathing heavily. His left eye splattered into a bloody mess that leaked down his cheek. His scream released as he clutched his staff in tears. Three more arrowheads lodged into the meat on the back of his arm. The fat end of an arrowhead stuck out of his bloody eye socket. Derk still wiggled his hand as he tried to make his fingers move. Something struck his knee. Pain burst from the injury as the arrowhead pierced the joint of his chain armor. He could still move, but only with severe pain and the feeling of a cracking pop in his leg. With an effort against a grinding pain, he remained standing in defiance of the skulls. Carrie groaned and retrieved her bow as she pushed herself up. The leather armor had at least blunted the force of the arrow heads even if she¡¯d taken a pounding. Two skulls clicked and clacked as if in celebration of their clever attacks. The steel skull made wet gurgling noises as it choked. Another wet ball rolled on the floor. As the sludge dripped away, a small black skull infused with mana diamonds grew slowly. It joined a dance that became slower and steady like the ticking of a clock. Clickity. Clackity. Clickity. Clackity. Click. 16. Weakest Link ¡°Derk!¡± A hand went in front of her mouth as the cave, the skulls, her party, all rotated in her head. A gurgling sound pushed from her stomach. Burning liquid cascaded up her throat and against her tongue. The stinging numbness over her torso wouldn¡¯t go away even though the arrowheads hadn¡¯t done more than poked and bruised her through the leather armor. The rest of her party looked worse though. Mike struggled to hold his heavy shield while his arms shook visibly. The heavy steel plated barrier found itself resting against his knee while sinking lower and lower. It looked like the fatigue in his arms was too much for him. Their spell caster tilted his head toward the ceiling as blood from his eye socket dripped over the left side of his face. The wand rested on the floor in front of his knees. The healer stood behind her, slightly to the left. Carrie turned to see that he suffered an arrowhead piercing his upper arm under the bite gap in his armor. Her eyes moved from Yull to Derk. ¡°Can you save him?¡± Tears ran down her cheeks and into the corners of her mouth. Yull nodded, flexed slightly, and knelt beside Derk. Instead of relying on basic restoration, he utilized the trump card. Mend Novice 01: Can patch one wound daily, forcing any type of flesh back together. The wound site will only be sealed or stitched and requires time to heal completely. As he casted this spell, he could sense the smashed knee cap and torn tendons. His vision of that knee-cap showed a bone shattered into little jagged bits; without this spell the only other option would be surgical removal. The knee cap pulled together as strands of fleshy material wove in and out of those tendons to push them back together. The strings tightened with no regard for pain or swelling. Yull wasn¡¯t sure quite how it worked, but his vision didn¡¯t conflict with his medical knowledge. It felt so incomplete and imperfect, and yet this skill mended the wound better than outpatient surgery. However, pain relief didn¡¯t come with the package. The intense scowling frown on Derk¡¯s face made Yull concerned. ¡°It¡¯s gonna hurt, but it¡¯ll mend.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry. You used your trump card on me. What about Ralph¡¯s eye? You¡¯re so focused on knee surgery and your practice you can¡¯t even see what¡¯s important!¡± ¡°I can only use it once a day, and you can¡¯t fight with only one leg.¡± ¡°Have you considered he might have a brain injury, or that he might bleed out. I¡¯m not even much better than I was, but he¡¯s crucial. And what about my hands, I can¡¯t move my wrists. I can¡¯t even pick up my sword. What do you want me to do, fish slap them?¡± Yull stood up, ¡°It was a spur of the moment decision. I had to do something!¡± As Ralph pressed his hand to his wounded socket with the back of the arrowhead extending from open fingers, he kept his remaining eye open. ¡°New skull! It¡¯s attacking!¡± The black skull studded with gleaming mana diamonds twirled above them. It spun dizzyingly before it suddenly stopped. The eye darted back and forth between Ralph, Yull, Derk and Carrie. When the eye finally stopped darting about, its stare burrowed into Derk. The jaw opened with a pop as it spoke with a scratchy, mocking voice that sounded like an old man wheezing on an old record. ¡°Heeeeeeaaliing!?¡± The skull fell back to the ground to continue its dance. A lustrous golden-red glow formed over Derk¡¯s left knee and both his wrists. A frown grew across the knight¡¯s face, then a scowl, a wince, and tears. The pain pulsated from all three of his wounds. The slightest sway of his wrists or bend of the knee caused a grinding pain that sliced through his head. A sickening pop could be heard by the entire party as Derk¡¯s left knee burst internally and he hit the floor rolling in agony. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Every tendon connecting his hands to his muscles tore as he rolled. A blotchy purple and yellow hue spread from his wrist. It crept up his arms. Muscles tore as if someone pulled them apart. Yull tried to turn the screaming man so he laid on his back. Bone crunched from under the torn cloth joint of the chain armor. The patella, the lower section of the femur and the upper section of the tibia splintered into sharp nerve-piercing shards. Derk stopped screaming. Fists refused to clench. Hands remained limp and fingers straight. He groaned and frothed a bit at the mouth as he clamped his eyes shut. A hand went against his armor as restoration power flowed into him. Yull remained kneeling at his friend¡¯s side. He examined Derk¡¯s wrists and noticed the skin around the internal wounds had become a jaundiced swollen yellow, even greenish, where the bones and tendons were shattered. When attempting to cast simple restoration on the wrists, he discovered that his mana had already depleted. The flame skull took to the air. It tilted toward Yull as the jaw creaked open. ¡°Yull, run you idiot!¡± Ralph yelled. A huge bright blueish-white flame singed the edge of Yull¡¯s nose and burnt the front of his hair as he dodged backwards from the flamethrower. The flames flew just above and to the right of the wounded knight without touching him directly. Heating chain mail cooked Derk''s right side. His entire right arm burned under the armor as the useless hand became bright red, swollen, and suddenly split open along the back with a pop. The same happened to his right ear, which swelled with sizzling fat as his lips and cheeks crackled. Hair crumbled away to miniscule embers. The scalp underneath turned red and swelled quickly. Blood oozed from cracks in the skin before drying into burnt clots. A repeated twitch along with deep labored breaths indicated that the knight still lived. Eyes strained upwards towards Carrie. One burning into a pasty, puss filled white and yellow ball with a lash shorn lid fused against the top. Strings of flesh clung between his lips as they moved. ¡°I- I... love you.¡± The fire withdrew and the flame skull returned to its dance with the others. The sickeningly sweet odor of burnt flesh penetrated their nostrils. The bow dropped as Carrie vomited over her hands and fell to her knees shivering tears. Only a small trickle escaped to puddle into her gloves but it burned her mouth and throat. The blackened steel and wood shield hid the tank as he knelt behind it. The lower ledge rested on the floor. This armor was too heavy. His burn stung too badly. The shield and sword felt like immovable objects. He peeked at Derk from the side of his shield. So, they had already lost one party member. If he could only survive, he could be with her as it always should have been. He just needed to find a way to survive. It didn¡¯t feel manly to be crouched behind a shield with his sword stabbing the granite, especially after what Derk had just suffered. Mike summoned his energy to stand, raise his sword, and hold up his shield. ¡°Get up and defend yourself Carrie, he wouldn¡¯t have wanted you to go out like this,¡± A gasp of gurgled protest escaped Derk¡¯s swollen lips. With great pain he attempted to move, to let them know he wasn¡¯t dead. His right leg, though cooked under his armor, could still support him. He bent it and stomped his foot firmly. The sting of the long blistering burn from head to toe almost sent him out. He stiffened his chest and took deep breaths to fight the pain. The arrowhead skull jumped and spun around with its now familiar ear-splitting scream. This time, it bellowed louder with a more extreme pitch. Blood spurted from Derk¡¯s left ear as all sounds faded into a constant high pitch ringing. Despite this, Derk planted his stinging elbow into the floor and flexed his back to get up. So much pain, so very much pain, everywhere, that he could barely feel it anymore. Adrenaline Rush Novice 01: You can pump massive amounts of adrenaline into your system at will. High risk of fatality. The skull flew toward Carrie. The one eye on the withered tendon stared her down. The jaw clacked and it started to open. ¡°No!¡± Derk shouted with all the power remaining in his lungs. His left leg crunched and snapped. The skin of his right foot clung against the inside of his boot as he favored it heavily. Hands hung down limply as he raised his arms, used them like clubs, and batted the skull down against his torso armor. The skull spun. It shredded through the chain link armor. Bits of chain link clanked against the granite. It shredded through his waist even faster. Bits of Derk splashed against the granite. The skull released its arrows inside his chest cavity as he fell face first. They popped easily through his body. The back side of the chain link suffered multiple indentations from the force within. The last thing Derk felt was an iron arrowhead come up from his stomach, slice upward through the center of his throat, and lodge into the back of his mouth. Chainmail bulged as the skull trapped within pushed against the back of the armor rather pitifully. Blood spread from the fallen knight. Derrin James Critchley: Lover Boy: HITBOX ZERO! FATALITY! 17. To A Love More True The tank felt claws rake over his back as if he wasn¡¯t wearing heavy steel armor. A playful giggle rang in his ear accompanied by a warm breath against his lobe. Soft whispers in his head that only he could hear enticed him. ¡°Aww, look at that, he¡¯s gone. All those years of friendship, the parties, the road trips, the heart-to-heart conversations, all gone. You didn¡¯t even lift a widdle bitty to finger to help him despite being such a strong strapping man. Oh, my poor little itty bitty arms are so tired! I still see forty-nine on that stamina bar. Someone is just too scared to fight. Or maybe... he¡¯s fratricidal.¡± The sword and the shield dropped to the ground as the others watched. Mike put his hands to his ears and pressed his head so forcefully that his face became red. He spit. ¡°Shut it! Shut it! Shut it! Shut it! Get out oi me bloody edd!¡± "Aww, but we made a deal. The offer you couldn''t possibly refuse. Remember?" Slick clotting blood coated Ralph¡¯s fingers as he bent his knees and retrieved his gnarled wooden staff. He hadn¡¯t used his main attack yet, perhaps that could save them. He got to his feet as the wounds to his shoulder and thigh ached. The chainmail armor worn by Derk kept pushing upwards with iron and bone spikes piercing the links. Then finally it got sucked downwards. CLINK! The snapping of metal could be heard as the arrow head skull snapped a hole in the back of the armor by eating the chain links. It rotated as it flew upward. Derk¡¯s body flung with it ragdoll style. A misting of eviscerated innards and one kidney dropped out. As the skull forced its way through the back of the armor, the body dropped in a new spot about half meter from the grisly pile of blood soaking viscera. Yull force cast restoration on Derk despite mana depletion, which made him cough. The attempt failed. The armor he wore had something to do with mana, but he had no idea how to utilize it properly or if it was not charged, defective, or both. Yull pounded his fists against the legs of his armor, which stung his fists slightly. ¡°I should¡¯ve- I think I should¡¯ve saved my ace card.¡± The arrowhead skull coughed, gagged, and made a clinking sound something like the coils of a chain. It jumped up and spat a small skull out of its mouth. The newly summoned skull had a collection of pointy jagged teeth housed in its burnt looking jaw. A chain hung down from the base in exchange for a spinal column. As the skull grew to normal size, it took to the air and slithered around like a small wyrm. The chain did not drag on the ground but remained level behind the hovering skull. Seeing this development, Mike struggled to get it together and grabbed his weapon and his shield. He felt too separate from the others and began to side step toward Ralph. The shield, the armor, the sword, was all really heavy and the pierced burn on his hand hurt badly. But the voice was right about two things, one of which was he¡¯d been afraid to do much of anything throughout this entire battle. The chain skull gazed upon them lazily until it approached Ralph. As it rose to meet him at eye level it let the chain dangle. Ralph looked to his companions for help. The archer sat on her knees, dry heaving and sobbing so violently she had the hiccups. Not good! Yull stood watching the skulls with a blank expression; his face had become pallid and his mouth hung open. Shik, shika, shika, sheeek! The skull wouldn¡¯t wait for the party to rally. It tilted right, tilted left, and whipped its chain. Ralph lifted his wand to cast a wind spell, which failed to push it back. The chain wrapped around the meat of his upper right arm. It restricted. The radius and ulna squeezed together before snapping. It restricted again, this time tearing through flesh. Ralph¡¯s hand slightly relaxed its grip on the staff as they tumbled to the floor together. The bloody chain of the skull coiled, then unfurled. It dripped Ralph¡¯s life fluids as the mob returned to its company and the skulls continued their dance. Ralph stared at the miniature blood spout where his arm used to be and struggled to gather his resolve. There was a scratch of tearing fabric as Yull used an arrow head to tear a strip from the bottom of Ralph¡¯s robes. He tied the strip around the wounded arm as tightly as his strength could manage so that the flow of blood abated somewhat. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°You g-guys, I¡¯m s-sorry. I lied. About g-graduating. I dropped. First year. Pathetic, I kn-know, r-right?¡± Ralph said, ¡°Give me th-that s-staff... back. Idea.¡± Yull crouched down and pulled the staff from the still warm limb. Then he placed it in Ralph¡¯s remaining hand. The wizard had lost too much blood and looked anemic. Mike jumped in front of the arrow head skull. Bone and iron arrowheads rained upon his shield. The chain skull lashed at his ankle to dent the armor plate boots. With his left arm, Ralph raised the staff. ¡°I c-call upon the all-consuming power of entropy to wither away my foes!¡± he shouted as clearly as he could. Entropy Novice 01: An area of effect attack that will weaken opponents by causing them to whither. The effect can be enhanced by increasing mana consumption. A cloud of dust formed above the staff and shot forth into the dance of the skulls. They began to whither, jaws creaked as they clicked and coughed. Tendons withered. A dried eye fell to the floor, followed by another, then another until all the skulls had lost their eyes. They wobbled and thrashed about blindly. The withered eyes bounced, absorbed the dust, and grew. The dust solidified into five mummified skulls with dried tightly shut eyelids. With a series of four clicks, a new eye popped into the left socket of each original skull. The ten skulls hovered around each other frantically. The black skull studded with mana infused diamonds jumped out of the dance to hover in front of Ralph. ¡°Heeeeeaaaaaaling!?¡± The golden red glow centered over the eye socket with the embedded arrowhead. The stump of his right arm and his left shoulder glowed along with several other smaller wounds. Sickening cracks and pops heralded the splitting of his arm. It was as if some invisible hand had grappled both sides of the wound by the bone, pulled top and bottom to split everything apart lengthwise. Flesh stretched as bone shards punctured out through skin. The left shoulder cracked, resulting in the left arm listing before it gave up the oaken wand. The wounded eye spurted a mix of red and viscous yellow puss. The arrowhead stuck inside fell from the widening wound. Ralph shuddered as intense pain filled his head. Then he felt nothing. The mage fell backward as the flow of blood leaking from his body subsided. Ralph Ratliff: Drop-out Mage: Hitbox Zero: FATALITY! Yull knelt besides the collapsed wizard and started doing compressions. Mike shook his head. ¡°Yull, no, look at his face. It¡¯s over.¡± The wound to his eye had gone deep. The skin had become a jaundiced yellow and the wound smelt putrid, rotten. He looked between the eye, the arm, and the spilt blood as he realized it was hopeless. He pounded Ralph¡¯s chest and put his head down on it. Then he stood, turned, and faced the skulls. ¡°Don¡¯t make fun of my best friend!¡± He ran forward and punted one of the mummy skulls with a strong a kick. It went flying a long way until it landed in the midst of another group. It shattered into dust upon landing. The other skulls did not like this. But Yull wasn¡¯t finished. He pivoted and aimed to give the flame skull a good rugby style punt as well. It dodged and countered by bathing his legs in a large blue and white flame. The carbon plates of his armor glowed red. Flesh burned, sizzled, and produced a sickening smell as his legs cooked, then burnt under the armor. First came intense pain, then loss of sensation. The arrow skull flew up and tilted, then rammed Yull in the head. An unreleased arrow broke his upper front teeth and sent a lower front tooth into his throat. Red spurted down Yull¡¯s chin as he swatted at five skulls swarming him. The struggle ended as the chain skull rose, snapped its chain back, and whipped it forward to coil Yull¡¯s neck. A sickening crunch followed a headless body swatting aimlessly one last time. Ulysses Hudson Moorehead: Knee Fetish Surgeon: Hitbox Zero FATALITY Meanwhile, the four remaining mummified skulls floated over to Carrie. She threw her bow at them, turned, and started running as fast as she could. They laughed as they gave chase. ¡°Shi! Shi! Shi! Shi! Shi!¡± Dust swarmed around the woman. She raised her arms to block it and covered her lungs. All sense of direction became meaningless. The skulls floated around her, trapped her, pelted her with wicked laughs and harsh sands. Her skin felt dry, her lips felt cracked. ¡°Carrie!¡± Mike shouted, reaching for her. Both his shield and his sword fell. The skulls pelting Yull¡¯s body with abuse ignored him as he walked past. The mummified skulls vanished as dust settled around Carrie. She turned around, her hair white and frazzled as skin sunk over her face. She coughed, her voice came out dry and withered, barely audible. ¡°What¡¯s happening to me?¡± ¡°It¡¯ll be okay, it¡¯ll be okay, you¡¯re going to be fine.¡± Mike hugged her into his armor, her withered form felt like it might crack from the slightest force. Her skin dried, lips vanished as they stretched into nothing. Eyes closed tightly. He raised a dry wrinkled hand against his chest. Mummified flesh crackled as he stroked her lengthening locks of white stringy hair. ¡°I¡¯m going to take care of you. You¡¯re finally mine. Praise Azoria. You''re finally mine.¡± Carrie Winston Hooley: Eager Matriarch: Mummification: FATALITY 18. For As Long As It Beats You will struggle. Stubby fingers reached forward to close those eyes, which he swore could still see him. A hand fell upon his shoulder and gripped tightly. Tearful eyes looked upward along the vine tattooed arm to see a stern face looking back at him. She tossed a crumpled doctor¡¯s coat to the other side of Circe. ¡°You want this woman to have a chance? Then do as I say. Get your palm in the center of her chest. Right between her breasts. You know what those are right? I want you to put pressure on her sternum.¡± She put a palm on top of a palm to show him and quickly guided him to the right spot. He became hesitant and lowered his positioning a bit closer to her liver. Ebony smacked his arms back in place and set him in position. ¡°There¡¯s a small bone there. You break it and she¡¯s as good as gone. You gotta do this right so I can concentrate on using these powers. Push down like you were doing before, not too much force but not too little, just enough to force her heart to move. Thirty times. Fast.¡± Alfredo did as instructed, though a little hesitantly. He didn¡¯t look at all sure of what he was doing. ¡°You¡¯re not depressing the chest cavity far enough! Now, a little more force, if you bruise her ribs, I¡¯ll heal them! Go thirty times and then check for breath.¡± Ebony moved to the other side so as not to be in the way of Alfredo as he gave CPR. She took a deep breath and tried using her skill for the first time. Once a day, she could diagnose any patient with one hundred percent accuracy. Diagnosis 01: Can diagnose one patient with one hundred percent accuracy for a few minutes once a day. The life lines of Circe¡¯s body came to her as if she was viewing multiple scans at the same time. A huge alert surrounded her lungs and heart. She could see the break in the tibia and flesh injury around it from being stomped. ¡°Clean fracture of the tibia, pulmonary embolism, shock leading to cardiac arrest,¡± she said under her breath, then she looked at Alfredo and spoke authoritatively, ¡°She¡¯s still in there, I can see her brain activity. She¡¯s not breathing, you need to stop pushing her heart and give her a breath.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t breathe for somebody!¡± ¡°Observe and do!¡± Ebony braced Circe¡¯s neck slightly, it wasn¡¯t broken and there was no danger of breaking it. Pale nostrils were pinched shut as she took the deepest breath she could manage before sealing her lips against the other woman¡¯s. The breath did not stop until Ebony had poured the contents of her lungs into Circe. Ebony took another deep breath, sealed Circe¡¯s lips to her own, and repeated the process. ¡°Just like that! Thirty compressions, two breaths, go!¡± Alfredo jerked his head about for a moment before gathering his resolve. Ebony leaned over the body in deep concentration. If he just knelt there staring like a lump Circe was gonna die. She had a chance, was he going to throw that away? ¡°ONE! Mississippi¡­ TWO! Mississippi¡­ THREE! Mississippi¡­.¡± ¡°That¡¯s too slow! Pick up the pace. Make sure you¡¯re depressing her chest a good inch and a half.¡± Sweat dropped over Circe¡¯s shirt, ¡°Doc, I¡¯m gonna break her if I go that hard. She¡¯s got glass bones.¡± ¡°She¡¯s gonna die if you don¡¯t do compressions and breaths so I can do my job!¡± Alfredo bit down and muttered an apology before he started doing acceptable compressions, still being careful not break the girl. Ebony didn¡¯t complain, as she could sense the woman¡¯s heart fluttering and moving blood around. ¡°Administering altepase to the clot site, direct transmission,¡± she muttered to herself while pressing a finger over Circe¡¯s chest. Direct Prescription 01: Can manifest a small dose of medicine into the patient¡¯s body once per day. Can manifest a toxin into a patient¡¯s body once per day. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The power of her diagnosis faded. In a few minutes she¡¯d be working with information that wasn¡¯t essentially a live diagram of Circe¡¯s body in her head. She saw air flowing into Circe¡¯s lungs and looked down to Alfredo, whose lips were sealed as a rather mighty breath lifted Circe¡¯s chest, followed by him pulling back, keeping her nose pinched, and sealing her mouth to send in another. Then he returned to compressions. His palm was straight over her sternum and the compressions couldn¡¯t be executed more perfectly considering the situation. The clot shrunk and blood flowed through her system. Though the information from diagnosis faded to nothing. Her perfect attunement in sensing Circe¡¯s body left her mind to become nothing more than memory. Hopefully she had been able to do enough to completely break up the clot. A new contender approached. Adonis had fallen moments ago, but Fedor needed a healer. Mark just happened to spot one giving instructions on CPR to the old man. He smirked. They were trying to save that useless scrap of a woman who had tried to act like such a big deal earlier. ¡°Hey, we need a healer. Leave this useless trash to die and get over here to help someone useful.¡± Thirty compressions and two breaths. He was in the middle of thirty compressions and didn¡¯t have time to acknowledge the cop. Ebony growled as she kneeled over her patient. ¡°I¡¯ll get to him when I¡¯m finished here.¡± "The useless runt is just going to die anyway, so how about I do you all a favor and speed things along!" The baton lifted so that the tip rested on Mark¡¯s shoulder. He raised his knee. Alfredo sensed the attack; he¡¯d been attacked from behind too many times not too. But this attack wasn¡¯t meant for him, and that¡¯s what really ground his gears. Skill Level Up Oni Form Novice 03 Acquired The compressions stopped at thirty. Alfredo slid around with a rumbling bloodthirsty growl. His left foot stomped forward as his right arched to lift his body. A strong back coiled as the chest pushed out. A fist arched back as if on a coil. Biceps flexed as Alfredo¡¯s right fist slammed into Mark¡¯s stomach before the stomp could even be executed. The officer felt the wind leave his lungs in a rush as he got pushed back. There was something more than Alfredo contesting him. The monster stood up. His eyes narrowed as they glowed with crackling red light; horns pushed up from his forehead to break the dry cracking skin. His hands grew longer as his fingers extended with sickening pops of each joint. Fingernails sharpened and pushed out into long black claws. He reached a longer arm forward to grab the winded officer by the head. Instead of having his head ripped from his shoulders, Mark felt himself kicked in the hip with enough force to slide him out of harms reach. A roundhouse from Nickey saved his life. And she remained just out of attack reach herself. Strings of paper wrapped the officer''s torso to encourage him backwards. Nickey put out her arms. The oni lunged forward with a lurching heavy stomp that would have made a less sturdy floor shudder and break. The swipe of his claws swished through the air but failed to hit Nickey as she dodged backwards just out of reach. ¡°We won¡¯t interfere anymore; don¡¯t you have a friend to shave! You proved your point! She¡¯s gonna die if ya keep this up!¡± The oni stopped and took a threatening huff through its nostrils. Then it took another step back. The claws and horns retracted as arms shrunk to their original length. The glow faded from Alfredo¡¯s eyes. Muscles relaxed from their overcharge. As he returned to his normal pudgy shape, he looked at Nickey and then looked around as if confused until he saw Circe on the floor. Without a word he returned to her side and took over compressions and breaths. ¡°If she lives, don¡¯t tell her we pressed face, kay?¡± Two more sets of thirty compressions, two more sets of breaths. He sealed his lips over Circe¡¯s and refused to think of the implications. He glanced at Ebony as he continued compressions and sweat even more when he saw her concerned expression. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if this will work, but these powers seem to mostly operate as described,¡± Ebony said, ¡°Consider it a last shot in the dark. Administer adrenaline.¡± Ebony pointed and concentrated on Circe¡¯s heart. Circe heaved and her back jerked a little as she spit up and coughed. Ebony grabbed Circe¡¯s wrist. ¡°Stop compressions!¡± She leaned in to push at Alfredo, as he was in automatic mode. He opened his eyes wide and looked to the doctor for further instruction. He heard Circe suddenly cough and saw her blink, even wince. She took a few gasps before her breath returned to a more normal rhythm. Ebony tilted her to the side to help her spit out anything that might get sucked into her lungs. Then let her rest on her back as she remained unconscious. A pulse had returned and her breathing stabilized. Hopefully that meant the clot had been dissolved. Ebony pulled tongue depressors from the pocket of her medical coat. She tossed the coat to Alfredo. ¡°I want you to tear that into long bandage width strips that I can tie. I¡¯m going to set her leg as best I can. You¡¯re going to help me make an improvised splint. We¡¯re going to get this done before she wakes up. And you¡¯re going to stay with her to make sure she doesn¡¯t do anything stupid to mess up our hard work.¡± Alfredo began tearing strips of cloth from the medical coat as Ebony checked the damage to the right leg and began to plan how to gently set the bone and best use her healing powers to give it a better chance. ¡°Her? Do somethin'' stupid? Never.¡± 19. Dead Meat Circe laid on the granite floor. Besides breathing and pumping her blood, she didn¡¯t do much of anything. The cave around her constantly erupted into a whirlwind of fights, screams, pleading, and death announcements. And she couldn¡¯t process any of it. The best possible splint that Alfredo and Ebony crafted with the material on hand wasn¡¯t that good. Ebony gave up with the tongue depressors as she had a better idea. A small pair of scissors helped tear her medical coat in half. The sections rolled into tight lengths of cloth that could brace her leg. They tied the torn sheets around her leg to keep the splint together and used a long sheet to tie the bottom. This would hold her foot in place. Once she woke up, Circe would have to make an effort to keep her leg straight and not put weight on it to help it heal. Ebony poured her mana into basic restoration and her placebo spell, but there was no way to tell how much good either did. ¡°If we find something sturdier, we¡¯ll remake it.¡± ¡°Whadda about these other guys? Don¡¯t like the way that cop keeps on starin¡¯.¡± ¡°What about them? I told them I¡¯d get to them when I¡¯m finished here. Besides, they took out zombie swordsman. So having them nearby is keeping us safe. Even if one of them is a big old bag egg.¡± A final check revealed that the splint wasn¡¯t as sturdy as she¡¯d like. The supports went from just above the ankle to lower thigh. There weren¡¯t enough ties and the rolls of her former coat weren¡¯t strong enough to keep straight, even with a few tongue depressors rolled in at the ends. The doctor did some tying to strengthen it, but exhausted her cloth supply. ¡°That¡¯s about the best I can make it, the rest is on her. She¡¯ll have to make a good effort to keep it straight until we can construct a more stable splint. In this situation, it might be wise to have a caregiver on-hand. You seem really strong. My powers really aren¡¯t all that. How would you feel if I stuck around for a bit? Protection for medical supervision?¡± Alfredo collapsed on his butt and crossed his legs as he looked toward the doctor. ¡°Ain¡¯t got no problem wit that doc. The more people that ain¡¯t nuts, the merrier. Yuh know what I mean? Can¡¯t vouch for the lady. Yuh just saved her life an all, but I think she might be touched in the head if yuh know what I mean. She bit me on tuh tit just cuz I was tryin¡¯ to keep her leg off tuh floor an get help.¡± ¡°And yet you did everything you could to help her,¡± Ebony forced a smile as best she could while she stood and wiped her forehead, ¡°It¡¯s hard to tell what this girl is going through after all, especially in a place like this. Hopefully she¡¯ll see that and calm down. After all, there¡¯s only so much a doctor can do when the patient refuses to cooperate with treatment. I¡¯m going to check on the other group, so if she happens to regain consciousness, tell her to keep her little hiney on the floor and her leg straight, unless of course some other monstrosity comes veering over in this direction. Then we do what we have to do.¡± Curse Activated Narcolepsy 01: You require twelve hours of sleep daily or you risk falling asleep involuntarily. Risk increases the longer you stay awake past twelve hours. Ebony let out a big sigh and suddenly yawned. She couldn¡¯t even manage to curse at her dumb luck or give the old man a warning. Someone had an exceptionally cruel sense of humor. Probably that white haired demon- Thump! Lips trembled as Alfredo pushed himself and crawled over to the fallen doctor. This wasn¡¯t at all like what happened to Circe, she was sound asleep! A few light taps on her cheek and turning her on her back failed to wake her up. He tried slapping her cheeks a bit harder, but when that failed stopped. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Now I hafta take care of two of yuh! That¡¯s not exactly what tuh doc ordered! Listen! I¡¯m fumin¡¯ here!¡± He stood in-between the two sleeping women and pumped his fist with a huff. ¡°So, guard duty it is, eh!¡± He watched those closest to his team as a music he found off-putting continued to play. They were in a pocket of calm amidst a lake of conflict, destruction, and death. Alfredo determined to keep it that way. ¡°Not gonna lie. I¡¯m kinda feelin¡¯ outnumbered here.¡± Alfredo thought hard. What did they have over there? Tuh cop, Chinaman in a suit, slutty looking number wit legs, a punky kid, and that fatso lunatic who was choppin¡¯ up those corpses a while back. So, this is tuh best bunch I got? At least they aren¡¯t killin¡¯ each other or goin¡¯ nuts. I ain¡¯t tuh best at doin¡¯ tuh thinkin... but. Well, whudevva it takes, I¡¯m gonna make sure no one lays a finger on these here dames. If that means I gotta get a little chummy, so be it. He walked slightly forward to the other group and indicated that one of them should approach. They sent Carson. The gamer put his hands in his hoodie front pocket and refused to look Alfredo in the eye. ¡°What is it boomer?¡± ¡°Doc fell asleep and I got no idea why. Can¡¯t wake her either. All I wanna say is, if you good, then I¡¯m good. I just wanna keep my people alive. That¡¯s all I¡¯m sayin¡¯.¡± Mark squatted in the distance with his back facing Alfredo. Fedor turned around and took a steady step. Fingers clamped the back of the chipped and jagged katana blade stuck in his body to slowly pull it free. A slight ring resonated from the metal as it hit the floor. ¡°I am fine,¡± Fedor said, ¡°It¡¯s nothing.¡± Sticky Fat Heal Novice 01: Once a day, all fat that is cut or sliced can stick itself back together to heal. These wounds, including other tissue, heal completely over one day¡¯s time. ¡°Crazy man couldn¡¯t strike anything of value. But I can¡¯t be taking such risk again today. I lost much blood. Even so, if anybody bothers those women, I will be striking them down. No hesitation.¡± The squatting officer began to sweat a lot. Had the big guy seen anything? Hopefully he¡¯d been too busy with his injuries. He glanced towards the butcher. The cleaver hung from his belt. The leather of a holster peeked from under a roll. Not only was this big boy strong with speed far too fast for his size, he was possibly packing. Mark didn¡¯t have his P320; he¡¯d dropped it after that witch led him right into the ambush at that meth den. The other members of his squad weren¡¯t here, so he guessed they fared better. He¡¯d completely exhausted his abilities and he doubted his raw combat skills would hold up against the big man or that old pot-bellied guy who could turn into a monster, so he decided to play it cool and stay squatting with his mouth shut. No matter what it took, he would not only live but thrive. ¡°We¡¯ll stay out of your business if you keep out of ours,¡± Carson said, ¡°But don¡¯t expect us to stick around.¡± Fedor shuffled away from the four that had helped him and towards the smear of blood piled with organs, limbs, and meaty slush that used to be a young woman before Adonis attacked her for no possible sane reason. Roaches had come from somewhere in the cave and were feasting on the remains, though there weren''t many of them yet. ¡°My only regret is I could not save you. I am too slow and fat to be doing anything right. May God guide your soul, if there is indeed still a merciful God in this place.¡± He turned to look back to the others, mainly focusing on Nickey, ¡°Thank you for helping me. I¡¯m sorry. But I cannot be moving around far and fast anymore. I will be guarding this place until Goddess Azoria grants us further instruction. I will be also protecting those two who cannot be protecting themselves.¡± Alfredo put his hands up and shook them. He just wanted to be left alone. This was not what he wanted. Mark glanced to each of his three other teammates in turn. They all wanted Fedor on the team, so it was an unspoken agreement. Fedor looked back to the others, competing for the lead with Mark. ¡°What you be saying now? We staying put and helping old man? What can it be hurting, where else can we be going until whatever happens, happens? Da? In return, he will be owing us later. Doctor too. She is good doctor and good healer. She will be owing us too. Big time. Or you still thinking you be surviving this game by killing each other like idiots?¡± Fedor didn¡¯t mention Circe, as in his opinion she wasn¡¯t worth mentioning. But he wanted to save her, at least for now, and this was a favor he could provide to her and the old man for trying to help. Regardless, the poor thing won¡¯t be surviving for long, Fedor thought to himself. He didn''t even mention her in the same speech with the doctor and the demon man, as she was the liability and not the bargaining chip. There was no going forward for someone as pathetic as her in a place as cruel as this. The demon man couldn''t protect her forever, even if he didn''t get tired of dragging a dead weight on his back. It was only a matter of time. Fedor had a term for such a case. Dead meat. 20. Chain Of Fate A steel sword sheathed into a leather scabbard. The shield¡¯s handle found an attachment to the belt strapping his heavy armor. The joints of the dry corpse in peeling leather armor creaked as Mike cradled it into his arms. Armor clanked a bit as he walked, but the sound became lost in the noisy cave. The bodies of his friends laid behind him, yet he kept walking. Azoria watched with a frown. She retracted her claws into her fingers and let them resume the shape and color of polished nails. The fates of chaos had spoken; Mogg-Dell had spoken; they wanted to see what he would do. He was left to walk toward the walls from the bloody mess that used to be his party. Some roaches feasted on the gore while Mike carried his mummified bride in his arms. Five skulls bounced happily around Azoria¡¯s feet. With a little whistle from Azoria, they floated upwards. The chain skull whipped its chain around Azoria¡¯s neck. She wore it like a choker. ¡°Well, aren¡¯t you looking chipper!¡± she giggled, ¡°Are you full? Why don¡¯t you merge with your friends?¡± The chain gently slid from around velvet ivory skin while leaving no markings. The others bounced against the chain skull, headbutting it. For a moment, a bright hot light emanated from their fusing. Where there had been five skulls, there was now a large demonic looking skull of charred steel studded with mana diamonds. It had two large bone arrowheads for horns and its teeth were jagged arrowheads. A large steel chain of thick links fell from the base. It dripped a flammable slime. A steel arrowhead with a sharp shimmering point swayed at the tip of the chain. Her spade tip tail swayed energetically as Azoria put her hands on her thighs and observed the highly leveled skull with interest. ¡°Thank you for all your hard work! Chain of fate anyone I marked after the signal, okay?¡± The skull bobbed about. Its eye darted as heart shaped flames made smoke plumes while she gave it a head pat. The skull flew away while clicking and clacking its jaw frantically. It flew towards the ceiling of the cave and surveyed the contestants: many huddled in fear, a few wandering aimlessly, a few trying to organize, and a few still fighting each other. It spotted the mark of the chain above the heads of those fated. Azoria could be heard giggling throughout the cave. Then it became laughter, raucous laughter from the chest. When the laughing suddenly stopped, a gong rang with a low ring loud enough resonate in the head. It came from the walls and ceiling but the sound did not diminish towards the center. The first chain dropped from the center. The heavy links slammed into an unsuspecting contestant before latching into the floor. A fine mist of blood plumed from the landing site. Fire lit across the chain as a gore-stained skull with a metal link spinal column bounced to the floor. It clattered before flying high to join its master. Sally Van Werner: Purest Snow: Chain of Fate: SKULLIFIED! Another heavy chain dropped down from the far-left corner of the cave. Once again, a contestant became a fine red mist so that only their gory skull remained. It bounced slightly above the floor with one remaining wandering eye as it clicked broken teeth. It too flew to join the others. Jason Postley: Hot-In-Leather: Chain of Fate: SKULLIFIED! The chorus of death announcements and the clinking of chain accelerated. The dropping of the chain, the eruption of flames, and the appearance of chained click-clacks repeated. Flaming chains scattered throughout the cave tightened. SKULLIFIED! SKULLIFIED! SKULLIFIED! Faster and faster the announcements rang out. They blurred into one another. They drowned out the screaming and pleading of the potential sacrifices. Glass chambers bubbled and filled in their containment rooms. Ever more of the hourglass shaped glass vessels filled to the brim with glowing red liquid. The glow overpowered the rooms as energy traveled up conduits, merged, and flowed upwards over one thousand floors to a great bowl atop the central spire of the dungeon ruins. The dark ball inside the bowl glowed dimly with a faint red, slowly brightening. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. SKULLIFIED! ----- The group at the right side of the cave towards the front of the stage watched as announcements rang out and chains dropped. Some burned vertically from floor to ceiling while others had a slight diagonal tilt. The cave became peppered with burning chain pillars. Skulls flew frantically about the ceiling. With a deep breath, Alfredo stood his ground. He didn¡¯t know what he was supposed to do against this if it came for them, but he figured he might as well go out looking defiant. Circe remained unconscious. Ebony snored. Roaches skittered around the wounded and sleeping ladies but Alfredo was too busy paying attention to the falling chains to notice. He stepped on one without knowing. Its innards smashed out near Circe¡¯s cheek. Another roach crawled across Circe¡¯s splinted leg and went under her shorts. She could feel a vague tickling sensation. The roach popped out of the hem of her shorts. Its dark brown coloration faded. It went under her hand, which clasped around it. Circe could feel the tickling and occasionally pinching of her enclosed palm as the roach struggled to break free. But even barely concious, she refused to let it go. Fedor caught his breath between groups. His wounds were taking their time and the healing caused his flesh to stretch painfully with every movement as if he had been stitched together. Mark had fallen on his rear with his palms against the granite as he watched the chains unfold like a fireworks display amidst the accelerated death announcements. Nickey kept her eyes on the ceiling, determined to dodge any chain that might try and come for her head. Banko curled into the fetal position and cried while Carson watched his screen. The list of contestants got shorter. Names deleted even as he scrolled. His heart skipped a beat. Whatever this was, there wasn¡¯t any running from it. The music of this cave blasted. It affected his thinking skills because it was terrible for gaming. Someone ran at their group while screaming obscenities. Not for long. The chain smashing into granite sent a blast of debris against them. Everyone facing it put up their arms to protect their face. A light mist of blood sprayed Carson and Nickey, who formed the outer perimeter of their group. Nickey found a chain skull clacking in front of her face as if laughing. It pulled back and flew off towards the ceiling. ¡°Apparently I¡¯m not worth fighting,¡± Nickey said, ¡°Thatsha relief.¡± Banko had his hands clasped against his chest as he curled even tighter behind them, ¡°Please let me live! Please let me live! Please let me live! Please let me live! ...¡± Mark pulled a tube of Skull chewing tobacco from his pocket. He¡¯d been trying to quit, but he¡¯d cleaned this out of his locker and neglected to throw or give it away before he died. He twisted open the cap and took out a big wad before he started chewing complacently. As he sat on the floor, he lifted his knees to rest his arms on them while he blinked at the carnage. Before long the cavern was crisscrossed with nearly five hundred burning chains with links as thick as a human torso. Azoria snapped her fingers. The music stopped. The chains thinned to the width of human arms. A wave of skulls flew to the stage and circled around Azoria. She gave them her blessing as they formed into a pile behind her. Arms, a seat, and a wide back formed a throne composed of bloody one-eyed skulls. Chains wrapped the skulls together and formed the cushion. Azoria sat on the throne of skulls and crossed her legs. ¡°Did you like that?¡± she asked, her voice rang through the remaining audience as her eyes glowed, ¡°It¡¯s time to light the beacon and get the rest of you on your way to death or glory.¡± She threw back her hair, put a hand on each of the skulls tipping her arm rests, and leaned back with a unamused expression on her face. The cardboard cutout of the giant smiling bull stood next to her until a chain whipped out spitefully from the throne and caused it to collapse. Was Moggy seriously that afraid of her? ¡°Light the beacon.¡± ----- On the surface, the glowing ball grew insanely bright with the energy that overflowed from below. The bowl cracked. Red neon light spread over the ruins of Azor. The hollowed-out structures held eerie shadows as the slithering light spread across them. The ball shot into sky with a great array of red and purple fireworks. It spun. A red light shot forth in the darkness of night as if at the top of a giant lighthouse. It split the clouds and broke the fogs that covered the rocky and half-sunken lands of the continent. The bright beam made night become like red day whenever it passed. Dogs barked. Wolves howled. Babies cried. Alarms blared. Fishermen pointed. Frogs croaked. Monsters growled. Hawks screeched. Slimes cooed. Villages brightened. Skulls clacked. Citizens stared. Guards cowered. Goblins cheered. The king would have no choice but to call upon his council and summon a hero. Throughout the sunken and burnt continent of Fruthia, the night sky burned brightly with every pass of the beam. The beacon of Azor erased the stars. 21. Broken Room A room. Just a room. Dark walls. Dark bookshelf. Shadows. No colors. A carpet. A round carpet. A woven carpet. The broken doll sat on a woven carpet. She looked between her legs. Her right leg was covered in ice. It wouldn¡¯t move. Her legs wouldn¡¯t move. Thin palms pressed into thick carpet. Something crawled under her palm. It tried to escape, but she clutched it. She clutched it. It tried to escape, but she clutched it. The walls had outlines of shelves. The shelves had outlines of books. Horizontal and vertical architecture. No color. A television. It was one of those old televisions made of wood and as big as a lion. The screen remained gray. It looked dusty. Where were her glasses? A remote control of black and gray had little rectangular buttons. But she couldn¡¯t see the numbers. All the buttons looked the same. It clicked when pressed. Click. Click. Crunch. Click. Click. It was so gray and dull and lifeless. If only it had more color. Click. Crunch. Click. Click. Click. Suddenly where there had been so little light, there was brightness. Where there had been silence, there was sound. The static of the television screen buzzed over her body. She sniffed. This place was thought. Pure thought. The static buzzed against her face. Click. Crunch. Click. Crunch. The remote refuse to work. She sniffed again. A hot wet ran down her cheek. Then again. Then again, then down her other cheek. She sniffed. Static buzzed against her face. The remote didn¡¯t work. Could there be a word in the static? Shhheeee vvvveeeee uuuuuuhhhh pop shhheeeee. No, it was just static, just nonsense. She stared into the screen. Static pelted her face. The television was too big. Too old. Static pelted her face. Hot wet ran down her cheek. There had to be more to this room. There wasn¡¯t. She blinked. She gasped. She clutched her heart and heaved. The remote crawled against her chest. A gulp pushed nothing down her throat. The static didn¡¯t change. It never changed. It just felt louder. She didn¡¯t care anymore. She needed to let it out. Static. Sobbing. Static. Sobbing. It came down heavier, hot, and wet like static. The television screamed and danced incomprehensible images in front of her face. Shadows crept along the wall. They avoided the static. But she didn¡¯t want to do anything about it. Where was her corner? Where was her book? Where were her glasses? Where was her wall? Her hand gripped around the remote as it tried to escape. This room was dull. This room was gray. This room was afraid. The room was static. And why shouldn¡¯t it be!? Other rooms only took care of themselves anyway. Other rooms tried to show off and be something they weren¡¯t. Other rooms tried to break her more! Like they were so special because they weren''t broken! The window cracked. The jagged line ran across the bottom left pane. She sniffed. This room broke more. She clutched her heart and sobbed. So utterly and totally worthless a heart. Who would want to live in a place like this? Everything was dull. Everything was gray. Shadows crept along furniture glued to the walls. Empty frames hung on the dull faded wallpaper. The architecture was vertical. The architecture was horizontal. The television flickered into a series of horizontal and vertical black and white lines before shifting back into static. She sniffed. Hot wet run down her cheeks. Hot wet soaked the carpet. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Legs skittered over her heart. Her head slumped. Tears dripped. The remote ran away. She felt her heart beating like the hammering of nails. Pins and needles tickled her icy right leg. Deep breaths flowed between her lips. Voices flowed out of the static. You can¡¯t leave here. This is where you belong. You can¡¯t change. Never wake up. She heaved. She sobbed. This was where she belonged. A shadow hugged the wall. A great bull with harsh glowing red eyes. It had the only color in this monochromatic space. A harsh judging red that made her legs shake and increased her sobbing. ¡°I don¡¯t want to play with you. You¡¯re a broken doll.¡± Crying stopped. Stitched lips wouldn¡¯t move. Stitched eyes wouldn¡¯t close. Cotton spread across the floor from a torn leg. The doll sat limply. Static poured over the face of a doll made from fabric scraps and porcelain shards. ¡°I don¡¯t even want you as a sacrifice to my realm. You disgust me. I want to erase you.¡± No response. What could a doll say? What could a doll do? Nobody had ever liked her. Come to think of it, she didn¡¯t even have any friends. There were people she knew, but did that even count? How many real friends could she count? A string of report cards and evaluation sheets lined up in an arch with the horridly itchy carpet. Trouble making friends. Doesn¡¯t work well with others. Wanders off to herself. Doesn¡¯t pay attention in class. Mister and Mrs. Sheffield, Your child sat in the corner all day with a book and refused to move or participate in activities. We need to have a meeting to resolve her unusual behavior and determine the origin of these problems. Poor coordination. Mister and Mrs. Sheffield, please teach your child that it is not acceptable to bite others. Frequently self isolates. Why did she have to look at this? Why did she have to remember this? What kind of dysfunctional, broken... doll... A sharp stabbing pain twisted her stomach. You never paid me back! That¡¯s right, that¡¯s all anyone ever cared about. Money. The thing that was the least important. Money. Never. Paid. Me. Back. Back! The broken doll sat as static pelted its face. Evaluations from grade school littered the old carpet. The shadow bull with the chaotically insane heart refused to come close. Yet it badly wanted to dispose of her. Most of the world didn¡¯t care whether this doll became trash or treasure anyway. But? How had she not seen any of this before? Water returned to the eyes of the doll. Sobbing resumed. Despite everything, it was what he¡¯d been trying to say all along. He wanted her to come back. She had a friend. She actually had a friend. The fabric of her hand manifested a peanut bar: PAYOUT. The orange and blue of the wording could be seen against the static. Her fingers wrapped around it. And the doll cried, sobbed so hard that hot wet streamed down her clothes once again. But she smiled too. Statistics appeared amidst the television¡¯s static. The stat of her spirit couldn¡¯t fit. The numbers blurred into a figure-eight loop. Then the number nine filled the screen. It ran repeatedly across the static. The screen filled with a static of pinks, purples, reds, oranges, blues, and greens that colored her face. The remote skittered up her leg and returned to her hand The room quaked. A snake erupted from the tongue of the shadow bull. It hissed frantically. You¡¯re worthless! Nobody likes you! Your brain is abnormal! Nobody cares. You can¡¯t do anything right! Nobody thinks you''re pretty. You break everything you touch. Your parents only tolerated you because they had too! You can¡¯t make friends! You don¡¯t pay attention! You can¡¯t manage money! You¡¯re weak! Everybody you meet is secretly disgusted by you! You''re flat chested. They talk about you behind your back. You¡¯re frail. Your power is garbage! Look at what the others can do! What have you accomplished!? How do you expect to compete with any of them!? YOU CAN¡¯T DO ANYTHING! You''re Worthless! The broken doll craned its head and looked at the bull. ¡°I don¡¯t like you,¡± Circe said, ¡°Please leave.¡± The bull screeched before it became dissipating static. Circe wrapped her hands around the candy bar and sobbed. How had she not seen it? He was being kind, to her of all people. All the trouble she had put him through and yet he actually found the time to help her. She just- she just- never noticed. She needed to do better. The screen flickered. Creation: Birth of all things. Preservation: Nurture of all things. Destruction: Erasure of all things. Restoration: Return of all things. Alteration: Balance of all things. It ties the others together. How had she not seen this? How had she not known this? How could she possibly forget this? ¡°I''m going to forget this?¡± A soft soothing hand caressed her cheek, ¡°Of course you will. But you won¡¯t forget everything. You won¡¯t forget how you felt. Because you¡¯re not a statistic. You¡¯re not a number. You¡¯re not a grade. You¡¯re a beating heart. You''re a mind. You are energy. You are emotion. You struggle. You will always struggle. Because you''re human.¡± Circe turned around, ¡°Dad?¡± But nobody could be seen in the room with her. ¡°Just a memory,¡± Circe blushed as water ran from her nose and dripped off her chin, ¡°He always tried to make me feel better in such a goofy way. How come I never saw it before? They really did love me. I''m sorry. But I can''t fix it now. I''m dead. But, I¡¯ll try harder to do better here.¡± She fell on her back and started laughing as she sobbed. An outpouring of spirit covered the room with colorful energy. It brightened every corner and chased all the shadows away. And yet she was under no illusion that those shadows wouldn¡¯t be back. They were very real, and very bad, and very strong, but she would do her best. Circe laughed and cried. Water ran from her nose and her eyes. Her hands couldn¡¯t stop wiping it away. The television popped; the screen cracked from the inability to contain the accounting of her spirit. Rays of sunlight streamed through the broken windows. This was her room. Full of color and sunlight. It was still broken. More broken than ever. But it was her heart. And somehow, Circe felt happy. 22. Payout Circe sat up and rubbed her eyes. Her vision blurred because she didn¡¯t have her glasses, so she squinted to see. A weird bunch of torn cloth was tied over her right leg, which ached so intensely she had no will to move it. A loud snore issued next to her, almost causing her to jump as she saw Ebony sleeping to her left. The sweat and tears needed to be wiped from her face, yet her right hand remained closed. Something crawled inside. It gave her skin pinches and tickles and felt incredibly smooth. Roach! A rainbow-colored roach flew up from her open palm. Its wings blurred a mix of vibrant neon greens, reds, oranges, yellows, blues, and most importantly her favorite color, purple. The tip of its abdomen protruded white as paper while the head was pure black. The sight of the insect flying away toward the stage made her smile. A purple roach crawled into her splint to tickle her leg. Circe frowned and tried to reach for it. It ran down to her foot, which forced her to stretch until she could flick it off her toe. ¡°You¡¯re awake,¡± Alfredo said, ¡°How yuh feelin¡¯?¡± ¡°I want to get up. But somebody worked really hard on my leg and I¡¯m not going to mess it up this time.¡± ¡°Yuh can thank tuh lady next tuh yuh. She saved yer life yuh know?¡± A glance at Ebony, then she looked up at Alfredo and squinted so she could see his face better. ¡°Did you find alcohol?¡± ¡°In a place like this? What are yuh on toots?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, but your face is all red. I¡¯m hungry, do you mind if I eat the bar you gave me?¡± ¡°It¡¯s all yours.¡± Her hand fumbled around in her pocket until she found the payout bar he¡¯d given her earlier. The wrapper needed to be carefully opened at the tip. The best way to do these things in a situation like this was to eat half now and save the rest for later. Though once the nibbling started it became difficult to simply stop. Some water would have really hit the spot though because her mouth felt dry. Dehydration could become a big problem in a place like this. Wait, didn¡¯t some people have water magic? They could probably draw moisture from the air like a dehumidifier. This cave did have a dampness to it that she hadn¡¯t detected before. It smelt like gym socks and old man. Circe tilted her nose at Alfredo. The white-haired woman sat on the stage, but even squinting, Circe couldn¡¯t manage to see much detail about the throne. If only she hadn¡¯t lost her glasses. She thought she¡¯d gotten over the phase of losing glasses one pair after another. How disappointing, she thought, as she nibbled the bar like a chipmunk. Circe couldn¡¯t see the chains scattered about the cave because she wasn¡¯t facing them, and even if she had been, her vision wasn¡¯t the best. Everything not right in front of her face became quite blurry. This woman whom she never met yet still still helped her according to Alfredo took deep breathes as she slept. Circe poked her on the shoulder but it did nothing to wake her. ¡°Hey, hey! This is a very bad place to sleep. It¡¯s not safe to sleep here. Are you listening? You should wake up.¡± ¡°Tried that,¡± Alfredo said, ¡°It¡¯s some kind uh curse. Yuh ain¡¯t gonna wake her.¡± On the stage, Azoria shifted on her thrown and altered the order of her legs as she crossed them. Her fist supported her cheek as her eyes gazed upon horns and then the top portion of the face of the bull peeking from the overturned cardboard as if it were rising from a puddle. The bull pulled itself up by stretching the puddle as its hooves smacked into the stage. Once out, it decided to trot behind the throne and plop down for a sit facing the wall. It burped loudly. A single clap of hands boomed through the cave. Contestants squinted as the chains vibrated in place. All attention focused on Azoria. Except for Circe¡¯s attention, she remained nibbling her candy bar, which was now half a candy bar. ¡°Every time you humans disappoint me. One thousand summoned and you only managed to kill off twenty of yourselves before the chain of fate. And I had to help you do that much. Am I supposed to think highly of your pacifism? Good job!¡± She gave the audience a thumbs up. Nobody dared to say anything in return. Azoria shrugged. ¡°I need everyone awake for this next part, so those of you who are asleep. Get up.¡± Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Azoria snapped her fingers. All those who had been knocked out, even those at the verge of deaths door, awoke. There were a few screams of pain from the back of the cave. The wake-up call wasn¡¯t gentle for the injured. Ebony sat up next to Circe, blinking and looking about as she got her senses together. When she saw Circe nibbling on the candy bar next to her, she broke into the biggest smile. But the booming voice on the stage forced her attention away from the patient. ¡°Well, now that the wheat had been sorted from the chaff and the gate has been unlocked. We do have a poll to conduct. It¡¯s really a simple question.¡± She opened her right palm and faced it flat to create a model of a knight on bended knee. She set the model down by her right foot. ¡°Will you kneel and serve me?¡± She opened her left palm and manifested a model of a knight with its fist upraised. The model found a place by her left foot. ¡°Or will you dare to raise your fist in defiance right in front of my face at the very base of my lair? You have five minutes to decide.¡± Ebony rose to her feet upon hearing this. Her fist shot up in the air. The thorny vines of the tattoo wrapped down her arm blooming into jet black roses all the way to the base of her shoulder. The first to decide caught Azoria¡¯s attention but nothing was said. Alfredo put his hands out to block his chest, ¡°Doc, yuh gotta be kiddin¡¯ me here. We need yuh alive! That demon lady crushed my skull wit a jack hammer. Whaddaya think she¡¯s gonna do tuh yuh if yuh put yer fist up in tuh air like that?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care. We¡¯re not her toys. I refuse to not do whatever it takes to bring her down.¡± Azoria smiled at the first choice, her eyes glowed wicked red as a fang grew larger out the left side of her mouth. ¡°Your choice has been registered paladin. It can¡¯t be revoked.¡± ¡°I have no intention of backing down, so do your worst,¡± Ebony shouted at the top of her lungs. Azoria laughed, ¡°Killing insects gets boring after the first five hundred or so, get stronger and we¡¯ll parley.¡± Circe continued to nibble on her peanut bar, now a quarter of it remained. She could hear the murmurs of discussions from nearby mixing with the sound of human voices from throughout the cave. ¡°This is actually fine,¡± Circe said to herself, ¡°I never knew payouts were this good. The caramel really compliments the peanuts. It holds it all together.¡± Alfredo looked down at Circe and shook his head with a weak smile. But seriously, what was he going to decide? He couldn¡¯t decide for the lady. He couldn¡¯t decide for himself. Ebony seemed to be fine though, and he didn¡¯t much like what was going on here or having a jack hammer or bolt fastner, he couldn''t remember which, go through his skull. Powers or not, this all seemed a bit too messed up. Kneeling, well, just felt wrong. Fedor knelt. Body mass strained against the sides of a bloody sliced shirt and the torn apron. He put his head down solemnly and forced girth back with his strong arm so that his elbow could touch his knee. The group of four nearby discussed the issue. ¡°It¡¯s a pretty obvious decision here. You don¡¯t get on the bad side of authority, and she¡¯s the authority,¡± Mark said as he slowly pushed himself from the granite floor, ¡°You all saw that. She killed half of us for giggles. And I doubt she needed to even put that much effort into it.¡± Banko nodded, convinced. Carson nodded, also convinced. Nickey shrugged, ¡°I don¡¯t like it. But she¡¯sh lacking in the evil department compared to my previoush mastersh.¡± Carson wiped his face. ¡°Can you not spit when you talk?¡± ¡°Can you not have naturally perfect teeth?¡± With the clock ticking and no timer to help them keep track, all four of them got on one knee and bowed before Azoria. Alfredo looked over the cave and saw a lot of kneeling, ¡°Doc, I have a feelin¡¯ that yer gonna be a party of one here.¡± "Do I look like I care?" Toward the back of the cave. A knight in steel armor carried a dried corpse in cracking leather armor on his back. He snapped the corpse¡¯s legs so the joints would bend for a proper kneel and joined it after it had been set in place. The mummy toppled against him as he knelt. Lizbet and Janelle stood over the corpse of the unfortunate spaceman. Azoria¡¯s wake up call was not a revival skill, so the man remained very much dead from the last set of coins that had torn through his body. ¡°Let¡¯s stand over here so we don¡¯t kneel in the blood,¡± Janelle suggested. ¡°Yeah, that would be gross.¡± They knelt together away from the body. The baseball player sat on the ground with his bat over his shoulder as he stared angrily while thinking about the games he missed. Two scared boys in street clothes remained of the five that had been roving earlier. Three of their party were now part of Azoria''s throne. After a short discusion about their friends who had been sacrificed, both of them decided to kneel. Megan, the magical girl in an oversized office dress suit, ran about the cave in her stocking feet, almost bumping into several kneeling people and a few who were trying to decide what to do. The cat bat flew behind her. ¡°Nya need to decide Megan, nya should make a choice before time runs nyout!¡± The mascot went poof as Megan crashed into the back of a young man with his fist in the air. Deep gashes from a bladed weapon drew blood down his arm. His jeans were cut and bloody. Megan looked up and blushed deeply. He was so tall. Alfredo noticed that someone else had registered their opposition to his mess. That guy who had taken a beating from Adonis had his fist in the air. A few other upraised fists were scattered about among the kneelers. At the last possible second, Alfredo pushed his fist into the air. ¡°Times up!¡± Azoria announced, ¡°Your decision, or lack thereof, has been registered.¡± Circe finished the candy bar and folded the wrapper with total care and attention so she could place it in her pocket, ¡°That was actually satisfying.¡± She looked up at Alfredo to thank him more properly, as she had to do her best after all. At least that was what she felt at this moment for some reason. What was he doing that for though? ¡°Why are you doing that?¡± 23. Edibles Alfredo continued holding his fist in the air. ¡°Doin¡¯ what?¡± Alfredo asked. ¡°Fisting.¡± ¡°Fisting?¡± Ebony laughed. ¡°Holding your fist in the air.¡± He bought his hand down, ¡°Didn¡¯t you hear the announcement?¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t listening. My leg hurts and I was hungry.¡± Alfredo rubbed his right cheek, ¡°For tuh love of it.¡± Azoria clapped slowly, ¡°Okay, you can relax now. You don¡¯t have to keep kneeling if you don¡¯t want to. All this reverence makes me uncomfortable. Look at how hard I¡¯m blushing.¡± Azoria stood up from her throne and walked back to her podium. The vast cave covered in chains spread before her. It looked a bit less crowded than it had before. A flying rainbow-colored roach smacked dead center against her face and clung in front of her nose. There were a few gasps from the audience. She poked it patiently on the abdomen so that it crawled up to her forehead, a little to the left. Its legs clutched against her hair to keep her bangs apart. It made a colorful accessory. She waited far too long to say anything. The cave remained an earie silent except for the occasional rattle of a chain or the clack of a skull from the empty throne. ¡°Those of you who had the wisdom to kneel, you are now hereby granted the status of honorary Demonians. The more intelligent denizens of this dungeon will know to look the other way so long as you don¡¯t pick a fight. They may even obey your orders if you gain enough power. Don¡¯t count on the same treatment from the less sapient inhabitants though. You¡¯ll have a mark that you can make appear on the back of your right hand whenever you desire a little power boost.¡± Mark, among others, checked the back of his hand. He saw the swirl of a black line that ended at a sharp looking spade at the center. ¡°You can consider this dungeon your home, and myself your benevolent queen. Now clap for me.¡± Silence. Azoria clapped her hands to send a thunderous shock through the reception cave. As the shockwave crashed against the back walls a disintegration of portions of the structure occurred. The granite crumbled away to reveal the half oval shapes of ten imposing doorways. Each doorway stood nearly a story high and multiple meters wide. A line separated the two sections. Large iron rings served as knockers. Square patterns cut into the iron doors glistened sharply without a hint of rust. In the center of each square there were etchings of various creatures. Azoria clapped her hands again and sent another thunderous shockwave through the cave. This time nothing new appeared. ¡°I said CLAP for me!¡± Uproarious applause. There was a long period of clapping until Azoria finally decided to let her minions rest. ¡°And since you are now privileged honorary members of Demonian society, you may now choose one of the ten doors that have been opened by the sacrificial pawns.¡± The ten doors stood ominously. Each remained shut and each gave off a purplish black aura visible to anyone who had the slightest spiritual sensitivity. Flanking each door were Azoria doppelgangers. They stood like professional airline stewardesses, even wearing a proper blue uniform with gold buttons and a neatly trimmed knee length dress. The spades of their tails decorated the matching caps they wore. A creak and rumbling shuffle accompanied the opening of the doors all at once. The faint purple black glow became a deeply bright purple mingling with a black smog that looked poisonous. As some of the vapor dissipated, the glowing purple teleportation rings could be seen by anyone close enough to peer inside. As smoking chains spread the slickly sweet strong odor of burnt flesh and stains of bodily fluids and feces were scattered about the floor with the occasional stale corpse, anyone who could still walk approached the exits. All the Azoria doppelgangers spoke in unison to the gathering crowd. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! ¡°Only the honorary Demonians may pass for the next twelve hours,¡± they said in cute high-pitched voices that could be heard clearly and evenly throughout the entire cave, ¡°A group of up to five may enter a given portal once every fifteen minutes to avoid overcrowding. Thank you for staying in Azoria''s lair. We hope you enjoyed your stay. Please help yourself to the complimentary mint before you continue on your journey. We wish you happy travels and great times.¡± With that explanation they gave a little tilt to invite whoever would choose a door to go inside and be transported. Azoria walked back to her throne but turned around before she sat as if she forgot something. ¡°Ah, I forgot that you humans have bodily needs, please forgive my lack of hospitality. The bite-bite-mites will clean your messes, but you do need food.¡± Azoria snapped her fingers. A crate fell in the middle of the cave between two burning chains. It smashed over the granite. A cascade of tan boxes labeled Nutrition Bar slid over the floor. A tension developed as teams now approached the crate rather than the open doors. Though the sound of whooshing could be heard as a few people and parties choose to exit and left without bothering to check the food. Mike, the knight, glanced back once "Do you want one too?" He asked in a hushed whisper, "Don''t worry, if you''re tired I''ll get it for you. You can eat it later, when you''re feeling peckish." He grabbed two complimentary mints from a bowl before adjusting his dried bride over his back and exiting through door number seven. Azoria waved a hand about, ¡°There¡¯s more than enough delicious Nutrition Bar for everybody. No fighting.¡± Fedor knelt before Azoria and seemingly had no intention of going anywhere as long as he was in her presence. Alfredo checked with his team. ¡°Do yuh think one of us could go and grab some of that grub? Even if it¡¯s a trap, we still gotta eat. No food or water for over a day is killin¡¯ me.¡± Circe looked away in another direction, as she had finished the entire bar. Ebony¡¯s stomach grumbled as well. Lots of stomachs were suddenly grumbling throughout the cave. ¡°She didn¡¯t even drop any water,¡± Ebony said, ¡°That¡¯s a far more dire emergency. Everyone in this cave must be dehydrated by now.¡± Circe realized her throat and mouth felt quite dry, so did Alfredo. She put her hands on the floor and yelled at the top of her voice toward the stage. ¡°Hey, Demon Lady! What about water!? We¡¯re going to die of thirst before we die of hunger!¡± Azoria yawned, ¡°Non-honorary Demonian says what?¡± Fedor, who was especially dehydrated, stood, ¡°My lady, short one is speaking true. We need the water bad.¡± ¡°Aww, dumpling, you¡¯re so cute when you¡¯re thirsty! But you¡¯ll need to figure this out on your own. I¡¯m here to train you, not hold your hand.¡± No water? Did that mean he¡¯d have to find it on his own? The slices along his thighs and gut, barely held together by self-sealing fat, made it difficult to stay standing. His healing came with pain, every motion, every jiggle, felt like a slice with that terrible jagged katana. A deep breath pulled into his lungs as he looked at the pitiful woman and her party. The demon man could not risk leaving his party unattended, as the dead meat could not move. Who would get them the food they need to survive if he did not assert himself? He watched as the officer and his team had another conference; this time they were leaving him out of it. It didn¡¯t much matter. Fedor pushed himself to his feet, slowly he walked to the smashed crate where people were already helping themselves to as much as they could carry. The officer and his crew followed him, though they were faster and got to the crate first. ¡°Alright, alright, stop hoarding the food!¡± Mark¡¯s baton slammed the granite to make his point clearer, ¡°We¡¯re taking charge of the distribution of these items. Looters get a beating. Are we clear!?¡± ¡°And who put you in charge?¡± asked the baseball player. Fedor caught up with the group, but remained behind them. His fierce visage backed them up. "We¡¯re the strongest team here," Mark said, "We commanded the front of the stage throughout the entire chaos. We didn¡¯t lose anybody to the chains. And we defeated the berserker without help. I think that puts us firmly in the top of the running. Wouldn¡¯t you agree bat man?¡± The baseball player stood up as the end of his bat slapped down into his left palm. ¡°Who are you calling bat man like it''s funny or something? I can show you some bat, man.¡± ¡°Can you people just chill for one moment!¡± Nickey said, ¡°I refushe to deal with unnecceshary fighting! We should be working together.¡± ¡°Look at him though,¡± Banko said, ¡°He doesn¡¯t even have Azoria¡¯s mark. He¡¯s a nobody. He¡¯s an athlete yet he¡¯s the opposite of a team player. He¡¯s only in it for himself.¡± A glossy dress shoe stomped onto the granite as Banko leaned forward, ¡°I expected an athlete of a team sport to know better how social dynamics work.¡± Skill Up: Sanity Drain Novice 03 Attained The baseball player growled slightly in protest, but backed away from the lecture before it went any further. He didn¡¯t like the way it made him feel and he didn¡¯t want to continue listening. He did feel an odd sort of motivating boost, but the anger and confusion that came with it wasn''t worth it. ¡°Fine, fine, team player, I¡¯m with you guys so long as everything is distributed fairly.¡± Banko stood firmly, looking quite victorious. Mark took it from there. ¡°You heard the man, everyone line up into your team and we¡¯ll get this distributed nice and fairly. Carson, Banko, let¡¯s get this crate out of the way so we can stack and count the boxes.¡± ¡°Whatever,¡± but he and Banko started fumbling with the broken crate top to try and lift it from the smashed bottom while the baseball player and Nickey stood guard. ¡°Almost makes me have faith in humanity,¡± Mark said, ¡°Almost.¡± The top of the box finally ripped off. Something popped like a plastic seal had broken. Banko and Carson screamed as a cascade of roaches poured from the crate to swarm towards the queuing teams. The jagged wood supports of the broken crate top fell over some Nutrient Bar boxes, crushing some while tearing open the boxes and the sealed packs. A few roaches crunched into a mushy mess. Azoria laughed from her throne, ¡°What? Everyone looks grossed out. Are they not edible?¡± 24. They Learn Swarms of roaches scattered from around the crate as contestants sought to avoid them. Some sought to kill them, as they gave a crunch when pressed under the bottom of a shoe. Most tried to make sure the six-legged insects didn¡¯t crawl up their legs as they scattered about. Some spread their wings, took to the air, and landed in clothing, hair, or someone¡¯s face. Nickey swiped at a few that tried to fly into her hair. She darted back and swatted them to the ground. They were big enough that she could feel them smack when she back sided them with her hand. Circe shifted her butt while turning around so she could get a view of the panic unfolding. ¡°What¡¯s the big deal? They¡¯re just roaches. My room is full of them sometimes.¡± ¡°Yeah, mine too toots.¡± ¡°Stop calling me that.¡± ¡°Callin¡¯ yuh what?¡± ¡°Toots, it makes me cringe.¡± Alfredo shrugged, ¡°Fine, whatever yuh want. What am I supposed tuh call yuh then?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t need to call me anything, just talk to me like a normal person. You can use my name if you need to get my attention. Can you do that?¡± ¡°Yeah, I can do that,¡± he grumbled. A small hoard of roaches stormed towards them. Ebony backed up slightly. ¡°Well, you know whose house isn¡¯t full of roaches, mine! I don¡¯t much appreciate any of them either.¡± Roaches crawled over Circe even though Alfredo tried to wave them away. She caught a few more and concentrated on changing their color. It felt strange. The more she did this, the less tired it made her. She could even check her mana bar while holding a roach. Her mana filled up little by little after using her power. ¡°Would you two mind showing me your mana stat bars?¡± Ebony was too busy hollering at roaches creeping up to her loafers and threatening to crawl up her legs to pay attention to Circe¡¯s request. Alfredo¡¯s strategy was to simply stomp anything that got too close regardless of the mess. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t kill too many of them,¡± Azoria addressed everyone in the cave, ¡°Vengeful roach golems are known to shred through high level parties, and calling any of you high level at this point would be a stretch.¡± The sounds of crunching reduced as people tried to let the roaches go their way. Azoria put her hands together and smiled as she shifted on her throne. ¡°Oh my, they¡¯re learning! Would you look at that! I do love it when humans learn new things.¡± ¡°Sho! Sho! Get away!¡± Ebony shouted as she stood on her toes and tried keep them off her without stepping on any. Circe frowned and waved to get their attention but neither of them responded. She took a deep angry breath and let it flow through her system. This was just how things were. She wasn¡¯t worth being paid attention, much less being the boss of this party. That was probably just Alfredo¡¯s attempts to humor her anyway. And to think she¡¯d actually started to believe it. A fistful of roaches went between her hands, actually more than a fistful. Between her legs a sea of roaches crawled and skittered around each other. They entered her shorts, which she didn¡¯t find very amusing. It tickled her thighs in a bad way but there wasn¡¯t much she could do about it except hold a huge ball of roaches between her hands. Where was she at with her power anyway? This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Alteration Novice 05: Can change coloration of a subject¡¯s hair, skin, eyes, or nails once daily. Must make physical contact with target for thirty-five seconds to take effect. The change will register over the period of fifty minutes or longer depending on mana consumed and the severity of change. She had changed the color of more than one roach, so that meant a subject was one subject. She could use her power as much as she wanted so long as she didn¡¯t run out of mana and she wasn¡¯t targeting the same subject twice. That was really good to know, because with so many roaches between her hands she could pour her power into this project until her mana became exhausted. Though she¡¯d make sure to save a decent portion, at least a quarter. With so many roaches running about it became difficult to keep track of which ones she¡¯d poured mana into and which ones were fresh. Though when her attempts to utilize mana were rejected that became a clue. Her power came with a sense of the subjects body, at least as far as colors were concerned. Wait, so she could change the colors both inside and out? It used more mana, but her power could sense the inside of any roach she focused on. A mental diagram of the creature formed in her mind. With so much work done, Circe celebrated by performing a roach toss. Roaches thrown into the air tumbled or spread their wings and glided away. Roach confetti! Circe had roaches in her hair, on her shoulders, running into her clothes, and while her companions were freaking out, she tossed them in the air as if making a salad. Ebony established a distance from the crazy girl, a very distant distance. The roaches behaved oddly, as if they were attracted to Circe. Ebony certainly hoped the critters approved of whatever was going on, because she wasn¡¯t in the mood to face a roach golem or see one, ever. Alfredo tried to help by dusting off roaches and scattering them. He used his hand to push the roaches out from between her legs and let them run away. Though a group of roaches clustered around Circe¡¯s right leg to fill the improvised splint. Since Alfredo didn¡¯t want to mess with the broken leg, he didn¡¯t do anything to disturb them so long as Circe endured it. ¡°Yer bein¡¯ a real champ all tuh sudden. What lifted your mood?¡± ¡°I think I might be onto something, boss.¡± Circe said, finally having Alfredo¡¯s attention. He looked taken aback when she called him boss, but a fierce huff escaped his nostrils as he glowed just a little while she continued speaking, ¡°Let¡¯s get some food. I want to talk to the officer about it. Him specifically. Can you carry me please?¡± A hand rubbed her hair, which was now mostly free of roaches. Her shoulders and back needed brushed off as well. ¡°First of all, I preciate tuh knowledge of it, but we¡¯ll keep tuh keep callin¡¯ you tuh boss, aight? Second of all, we spent too much time gettin¡¯ that leg in order to go bustin¡¯ it again. So no dice. Capisce?¡± ¡°I have a very important thing to do, and if you aren¡¯t going to help me then I¡¯ll go myself on my hands and knees if I have too! I¡¯m going to have to move around eventually.¡± Alfredo looked to Ebony for support. The doctor crept closer, as no matter where she went some number of roaches remained present. ¡°What kind of idea has she gotten into her head? I heard about half of it. We¡¯ll carry you when necessary, girl. I worked too hard to bring you back from the brink and if something bad happens I might not be able to do it again.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a girl. I¡¯m twenty-seven years old.¡± Circe huffed angrily; nobody ever listened to her. This just proved it. She folded her good leg and started to get up. Alfredo caught her from under the arms so she didn¡¯t accidentally put too much weight on the broken leg. He lifted her up, not concerned with roaches falling from her or bracing themselves around her splint. Somehow the slightly faded roaches were bracing her splint and making it more stable rather than less. Though Alfredo was hesitant to let her too close to him and held her out with his arms extended. Circe pursed her lips together hard and made scrunchy faces with squinting eyes. She did her best not protest, as she was getting what she wanted after all and she needed to keep her legs still. She promised herself she¡¯d do her best. ¡°I feel like I¡¯m being lifted by a crane.¡± ¡°Well, yuh got roaches all over your splint. I¡¯m not sure what they¡¯re doin¡¯ in there, but they don¡¯t seem tuh wanna drop out.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about them, they¡¯re fine. They¡¯re helping.¡± Alfredo made eyes toward the doctor, rolled them, and looked down toward Circe to get his point across. ¡°Fine, if you don¡¯t want to take me to him, I won¡¯t beg him for food.¡± Alfredo¡¯s stomach grumbled, ¡°He tried tuh kill yuh twice miss. Why don¡¯t yuh sit down and let the doctor handle it?¡± Circe deflated while cursing her injury, ¡°Fine, fine. There was something I really wanted to try. But fine.¡± Alfredo cleared a spot and sat Circe down like she was a broken doll. At the very least, she had learned to behave herself. 25. Luck Me As she had been relegated to guarding a spot on the floor, Circe decided she had nothing better to do than to check numbers. It would give her some insight into the how the system worked, as she had far more questions than answers. And calm had been enforced upon the cave, a calm she didn''t trust. Circe Oratia Sheffeild Divergent Bookworm
Skill Description
Alteration Novice 05 Can change coloration of another subject¡¯s hair, skin, eyes, or nails once daily. Must make physical contact with target for thirty-five seconds to take effect. The change will register over a period of fifty minutes or longer depending on mana consumed and severity of the change.
Curse Description
Stat Locked Can not gain experience. Can not gain stat points beyond initial levels in the following categories: Strength, Toughness, Speed, Agility, Stamina, Magic, Spirit, and Luck
Significantly Injured: Right Leg You are significantly injured. Stat reductions proportional to severity of injury. Hit box points reduced proportional to severity and location of injuries. Attacks to injured areas always result in critical hits.
Injured: Chest You are injured. Stat reductions proportional to severity of injury. Hit box points reduced proportional to severity and location of injuries. Attacks to injured areas always result in critical hits.
Vital Statistics # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat #
Perception 43 Sight 28 Hearing 99 Touch 88 Awareness 73 Spiritual 301 Nil Nil
Strength 01* Arms 01 Legs 01* Torso 01* Back 01 Grip 01 Nil Nil
Toughness 01* Blunt 01* Slice 01 Pressure 01* Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Stamina 40* Heart 52 Lungs 17 Arms 04 Legs 01* Nil Nil Nil Nil
Speed 04* Swim 01* Swing 05 Run 01* Think 75 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Agility 13* Arms 84 Legs 11* Torso 31* Back 73 Fingers 92 Nil Nil
Fortitude 32 Magic Def 04 Mental Def 55 Stability 55 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Intelligence 99 Emotional 12 Scientific 99 Spiritual 173 Interpersonal 33 Bestial 68 Creative 99
Magic 01 Fire 01 Ice 01 Water 01 Wind 01 Earth 01 Nil Nil
Spirit -- Restoration 01 Illusion 01 Life 01 Dark 01 Light 01 Resistance --
Luck 01 Money 01 Combat 01 Magic 01 Relational 01 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Her injuries affected her physical stats. Even the location had been noted. What in the world happened to her chest? They had saved her life, according the them. But there was no reason not to trust them. Get out of your own head Circe. Alone you are dead. Take a chance with people who aren''t your parents for once in your life. It had to be CPR then, which meant. Had she been really dead, for really real dead? Alfredo hadn''t said much about it. But so much was going on and there were too many other pressing needs. As much as it hurt, Circe understood why they wanted to keep her out of the way. Her little finger pressed in her mouth as the tip of the nail scratched her right canine tooth. Hair, skin, eyes, or nails? Had her thinking been to limited? Subject didn¡¯t necessarily mean human, that much had been proven. But last time she checked, roaches didn¡¯t have skin or hair. Could skin be another way of saying flesh? That seemed too lenient for this system. How was it defined? In this situation, observation and practical experiment reigned supreme. The roaches didn¡¯t have skin, so how was she able to even change their color? Nails?! Okay, she had read something about insect exoskeletons being chitin, highly similar to what nails were made of. That explained it, kind of, though they weren¡¯t really the same. What were nails made of? She forgot so she grabbed her phone to check Spyygle. Oh right, the phone had limited battery, and the screen had cracked really badly, and the wi-fi here didn''t work properly. She put the phone back in her pocket, perhaps it could be useful later, somehow. Anyway, whatever roaches were made of, the outside was close enough to skin or nail that she could change their color. A roach became energized with new colors whenever her mana recovered enough to keep it from becoming exhausted. Reading her mana bar made her squint. It kept moving erratically. At least she could see her stats without glasses. Level Up: Alteration Novice 06 Whatever, the key was that the definition wasn¡¯t limited to human skin. Maybe it was a loophole, but wasn¡¯t the peel of a banana a skin, the outside of a potato, chitin could be considered a type of skin that way. But hadn''t she been thinking a type of nail before? Her attention ripped back to the screen and she lost the entire line of thought as her body tensed and she took controlled deep breaths. Luck! What even was luck?! What did it do? Did her permanent one in all luck related stats mean a Diaboli Ex Machina awaited around every corner? Her luck in the real world hadn¡¯t been that terrible though. Loosely based on your abilities in life in your previous life... right. Somebody with no luck would be dead! They wouldn''t survive a minute against a stream of Diaboli Ex Machina! It took a great deal of luck just to be born, just to survive and not have something crazy happen. This entire system was stupid because she deserved at least average luck. It didn¡¯t matter how smart she was, a person without luck could never survive on her own! Then a possible reasonable interpretation of her luck statistic was that without someone who wanted her alive, someone with a great deal of luck, she would die. Circe gulped. The world wanted her dead. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Alfredo became more important than ever. Should she tell him that? Was his luck stat balancing hers? She had been lucky enough to not die several times when she otherwise could have, should have. How had she even met someone like him when her relational luck was also minimal? Her head felt light. She still felt weak. Whatever had happened to her recently had been bad enough that every breath she took cost in pain. And now her mind wandered with the grinding gears creating a constant dull pressure. Even the goal of taking a quick look at her stats could turn into a distraction. This was not how to think in a ¡®do or die¡¯ situation. What would it be next, would she start pondering the philosophical implications of haste? Speaking of haste- No! Circe put her hands to her heads. It looked like she cowered but instead she lamented the way her brain functioned. If her mind wasn¡¯t wandering it lingered too long and powerfully on something trivial! Better to let the doctor do the thinking, she seemed smart. What good did any of this thinking do her? The voice of Fedor arguing with the officer pulled her out of her own head. She squinted really hard. It proved easier to make out the shape of the big man. The others were all equally sized blurs of colors and light in this brightly lit cave. Okay, breathe. Calm down. Look at numbers. Everything went back to the luck stat. That one worried her the most. It obsessed her. There was no compensating for bad luck. No matter how paranoid she became, or how much skill she accumulated, an unlucky event could take her out instantly before she ever saw it coming. Maybe that advice from her parents to only worry about what she could control applied here. She died before, it hadn''t been so bad, it had been really fast like BLAP! But back to luck, she had to hope it only affected certain outcomes like those in the subcategories or was some kind of a dump stat. Thinking back, her luck took a bad turn whenever she tried to do something on her own. Luck. Luck. DUMB LUCK! She¡¯d need items of some sort to counter this and it would be her top priority. Why were some of the numbers red with an asterisk? Injuries, right, so she circled back to injuries. Legs, stamina, speed, running. Circe looked down at her leg. It had turned purple around the break. Adonis had not only broken her bone; he damaged the soft tissue around it. So that possibly explained the red numbers, long term injury. Oh wait, there were new curses!? Never mind, for some reason the system put injuries with curses. That was stupid. Injuries were injuries and curses were curses, who was the idiot who designed this and decided to batch them? "They are not the same!" Having no magic was not a problem. She didn¡¯t need it. Oddly enough her magic luck was the lowest number as well. Hate, just pure hate. This world hated her. Strength, toughness, stamina, and speed all frozen. Worst she had the lowest possible stats in strength and toughness. A broken doll didn¡¯t even begin to describe how she felt. Something could flick her and she¡¯d break. Stamina and speed were low too, not in the single digits but she would remain quite substandard even by human measures. ¡°You mean to tell me I can¡¯t even train to get stronger,¡¯ she grumbled to herself, ¡°So if I do push-ups every day, it¡¯s going to do nothing for me? How is that fair?¡± A little voice giggled in her head, ¡°Curses aren¡¯t designed to be fair sweety.¡± ¡°Nggghhhhhh, get out of my head. I don¡¯t like you.¡± Might as well pick up another roach and pump some of her power into it. It was the only thing she could do besides reading stats. While playing with the roaches, she wondered what could mitigate her defenselessness. I need to find some incredibly overpowered armor, she thought, but it¡¯ll have to be light because my base stamina isn¡¯t going to improve. My gear kit needs maximum efficiency if I want to survive here. It¡¯s a good thing I played a few roleplay games, I guess. Her eyes widened. The perception stats had skyrocketed. She hadn¡¯t noticed any numbers like she had seen when Alfredo was hit by the police officer, Mark, perhaps they were situational or notifications could be toggled. Maybe Alfredo had wanted to display his growth in the moment, while others wanted to conceal theirs? But wow! What in the world was her spirit perception stat! 302! That seemed huge. It wasn¡¯t nearly that high the first time she checked. What had driven it so high so quickly? Could she use this to help her survive? Could perception and intellect negate some of her bad luck? Could this toxic combination of stats be made into something at least edible? Circe groaned. Her intellect hadn¡¯t gone up much at all. What was with that? She¡¯d been thinking like crazy since she got here. Except for when she had been out cold. Maybe she needed to come up with more and better ideas. Then suddenly she noticed her scientific intelligence stat tick upwards by one, to 100! Circe clapped thoughtlessly. It ticked back down to 99. Booo! Intellect and perception would be her keys to victory. In a strange way, the curse made her pathing decisions easier. She had no choice but to min-max, and she already knew what was going to be min and what would be max. Perception and intellect would take her caution to new heights. Her gear should focus on improving speed and agility to levels fit for escape-based combat. Her mind birthed an aggressively passive survival strategy. Her scientific intellect stat ticked back up to 100. Wait a minute... the numbers could go down? Her base intellect stat changed to 100. Her base spirit stat and her spirit resistance were broken. Were they in the negative or something? The number box showed nothing but glitchy static. All the other spirit-based stats were stuck at 01 anyway. So, she had no spirit but her spirit perception was that good? Circe bit her tongue as she went further into deep concentration mode. The world around her might as well have not existed, yet her improved perception still sensed, ready to attempt snapping her into awareness if it could by itself. She whispered. "None of this makes any sense. I don''t understand. I can''t understand it." No matter how much she scrolled there was no explanation on what spirit contributed to a person¡¯s capacity. Light and dark magic she remembered as a concept from video games, seems she had none of it. No restoration or illusion spells for her either, dumb luck. She was glitched, a broken doll with a curse. Time to check someone else¡¯s stats. How about the doctor that had saved her life... what was her name? Eyes narrowed. Circe realized she¡¯d never even bothered to introduce herself or thank the doctor for saving her life. She forced herself out of her own head and looked around. But only Alfredo stood nearby. ¡°Where did the doctor go?¡± Circe asked. ¡°What¡¯s up? She went over there tuh beg some grub. Yuh hurtin¡¯ somewhere?¡± ¡°No, I just wanted to thank her and introduce myself. I usually forget things like that. Do you know her name?¡± Alfredo took a deep breath and realized he¡¯d never introduced himself or properly thanked her either. ¡°Ahhh, yeah. It¡¯s sorta been one thing after tuh other so... yuh know like, I kinda forget about that.¡± ¡°How anti-social of you.¡± Alfredo frowned; he was close enough that she could see his face fairly clearly. ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Circe said, ¡°I understand. I just always wanted to call someone else that. Sorry it had to be you.¡± Alfredo smirked, ¡°Right, we¡¯ll ask her when she gets back. And thank her all nice an proper like.¡± Circe nodded as she scrolled to Alfredo''s name and opened his stat file. Alfredo Grandioso Delgado Hell''s Dreamer
Skill Description
Oni Form Novice 03 Can boost strength and stamina by 11 percent for thirty-two minutes a day. Can utilize novice oni form for five minutes a day.
Vital Statistics # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat #
Perception 39 Sight 39 Hearing 73 Touch 44 Awareness 19 Spiritual 04 Nil Nil
Strength 70 Arms 80 Legs 83 Torso 57 Back 65 Grip 51 Nil Nil
Toughness 79 Blunt 80 Slice 64 Pressure 88 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Stamina 40 Heart 13 Lungs 41 Arms 50 Legs 74 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Speed 47 Swim 25 Swing 67 Run 41 Think 23 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Agility 11 Arms 29 Legs 11 Torso 03 Back 03 Fingers 07 Nil Nil
Fortitude 101 Magic Def 101 Mental Def 95 Stability 95 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Intelligence 13 Emotional 09 Scientific 07 Spiritual 13 Interpersonal 31 Bestial 11 Creative 01
Magic 01 Fire 02 Ice 02 Water 01 Wind 01 Earth 01 Nil Nil
Spirit 03 Restoration 01 Illusion 01 Life 01 Dark 05 Light 01 Resistance 50
Luck 99 Money 99 Combat 99 Magic 99 Relational 99 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Eyes poured over Alfredo¡¯s stats. They were as good as the last time she checked, especially luck. Was he really that lucky in real life? Well, maybe this was real life now. His previous life? Concentrate on what is important! Ironic that she was lucky enough to have him protecting her. Circe suddenly shuddered hard. Examining the stats caused her brow to furrow deeply. No, this feeling was just an excuse for her to become paranoid and distant. Dismissed. A huff of air escaped tensed nostrils as she stared down the stat screen even more intently. What did the cop''s stats look like now? What was his name? She forgot. 26. Queue A scream issued from the other side of the cave. Sal Lundy: Disaffected Sales Associate: HITBOX ZERO: FATALITY! ¡°Please state your name clearly and the name of your party members,¡± Banko said. The man had paper. He never seemed to run out of it. ¡°Nancy Folgers, my party members are Fara Gislet and Guy Higgens,¡± a soft voice said in response. ¡°Can you spell those please?¡± ¡°Fine, my name first, Nancy Folgers, N-A¡­¡± This was the fifth time Ebony heard him ask that since she came to the line. They were smart about this. They had formed a power group but they weren¡¯t trying to hoard the loot. Instead, they were collecting something more valuable, information. They made it seem so boring and innocent, like an emergency room reception office. The bright rocks all over this cave strained Ebony¡¯s eyes as she stood in line. First murdered by a demon girl, saved a life, forced to wait in line for dog food. What was her life right now? Ebony yawned so hard her jaw almost cracked. Yet, she remained in some forced state of consciousness. It felt like hooks on strings dug into her body and forced it to move through a fog. Crashing into the granite floor to sink into slumber felt imminent. Yet, even if she had a queen-sized mattress on a luxury bed, she knew sleep wouldn¡¯t come as long as these hooks remained digging in her skin. She yawned again, a loud long yawn as her head felt heavy and groggy. It wouldn¡¯t stop, one yawn after another, no matter how much she tried to suppress them. This wake-up call needed to be released. She pressed her fingers into the bridge of her nose. A scream issued from the other side of the cave, ¡°Please, for the love of all things holy, make it stop!¡± Sal Lundy: Disaffected Sales Associate: HITBOX ZERO: FATALITY! Whatever forced her out of her cursed slumber was neither gentle or healthy. Ebony could feel her general well-being gradually sliding. If sleep remained out of reach much longer, the same fate as that poor man; God rest his poor gentle soul, awaited her. Checking her powers and numbers seemed like the thing to do; others were doing it. It wasn¡¯t like she¡¯d never used a computer before. Her boy played those cartoon games too, and he was always talking about them with his friends. What was her boy doing? How was he faring without his meals? Was he eating right? Was he drinking enough water? The last of the meatloaf she cooked would soon be finished. Where would his next meal come from? Would that deadbeat try to come back into his life and play the hero? Why worry about it now? She couldn¡¯t help but worry. She never thought she¡¯d be able to worry about it. Death was supposed to be clean, as in there was supposed to be nothing. Whatever this was, it didn¡¯t feel like death. She forgot about checking her powers and numbers as she waited in line. Eyelids drooped like half drawn curtains while she heard more people spell out their names for the dream team. The officer supervised, the CEO organized, and the others just looked threatening except for the skinny boy who looked almost the same age as her son. He looked like someone he might have played those cartoon games with. Another scream, the same voice from before, issued from the other side of the cave, ¡°Please, not again! No! No! No! No!¡± Sal Lundy: Disaffected Sales Associate: HITBOX ZERO: FATALITY! Roaches skittered across the granite in front of her. Ebony backed up lest they try to crawl up her leg again. Would she stay with roach girl and the old man? The girl needed somebody to look after her. The old man seemed like a decent person, even if he was dull as a bag of rocks and couldn¡¯t hold a conversation when she put it in a box for him. Come to think of it, they never introduced themselves. Well, there would be plenty of time for that. Her position in the line moved forward. Looking back, she could see some groups that had collected bars already choosing an exit. Good, the less people the better. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Now about this food. If it could even be called that. What kind of food came from a little brown box. Nutrient bar? More like Sooby snacks. That¡¯s what they would taste like, of which she was certain. Then again, she imagined Sooby snacks probably had flavor. A tall black man, well built and probably middle aged with no hair, nicely shaped head though, stood in front of her accompanied by a short white girl in oversized clothes. It was their turn. Ebony recognized the beefcake, but not from her previous life. He was the guy growing shields out of his arms and legs earlier. The sleeves and pant legs of his clothes were ripped and clearly stained with dried blood. Even in utter exhaustion, Ebony felt a bit of a tingle just looking at him. He¡¯d fought well too. ¡°Please state your name and spell it clearly,¡± Banko said. ¡°Darrone Roberts, that¡¯s D-A-R¡­¡± Ebony took notes on this one, she was going to look him up for sure. Or she¡¯d just forget his name because her mind remained in sleep deprivation mode. The fat butcher knelt down as the girl in front of Ebony began spelling her name. His pants strained as his belly bulged against his bloody shirt. He ham-handedly grabbed at the boxes while dropping more than he clutched. Fistfuls went in the middle of his outstretched rounded apron until he had a little pile in the bloody cloth. Boxes threatened to slip out of slices in the fabric. ¡°Hey! Hey! I thought we were distributing this fairly. Just because you¡¯re some fat lard doesn¡¯t mean you can take a whole mountain of boxes when there¡¯s a line of hungry people!¡± Ebony yelled towards him. Nobody behind Ebony dared to join the protest, but with how many boxes butcher mart had just taken, they would have to reduce the rations to one box per person instead of two. Mark snickered, ¡°Deal with it lady. Big boy worked hard and he needs his energy to heal. Anyone else want to make noise about it!?¡± The people who had already received their rations didn¡¯t want to make waves and the people in line weren¡¯t in the mood for a fight. Ebony wondered if she would have risked singling herself out if she wasn¡¯t so tired. Then she was suddenly shoved to the side as two girls pushed past her to the front of the line. With the frustration from her lack of sleep building, Ebony had to hold back the urge to throw a punch. And she almost jumped forward and pushed the tall woman whose hair was set in dyed gold braids. The mocha skinned girl turned around at Ebony¡¯s first angry step forward. ¡°Oh no, you¡¯re not gonna try and push me? Are you, old lady?¡± A hand went on her hip, ¡°Are you looking to die?¡± The woman pushed Ebony in the chest to make her stumble back against an old woman wearing loose colorful robes. The frail looking old lady didn¡¯t fall backwards upon catching Ebony. The woman with the braided hair laughed, ¡°You¡¯re lucky I¡¯m in a good mood. I don¡¯t hurt helpless old ladies.¡± Megan shuffled around Darrone for protection when she saw the first people she¡¯d met upon waking up in this cave. The last thing she wanted was for them to see her. She was hoping maybe they forgotten she¡¯d existed or that they would have been killed when the chains came down earlier. Lizbet played with her gold hoop earrings with one hand while manifesting a pile of small silver coins in another. ¡°Janele! We don¡¯t got all day here. Let¡¯s get some food and leave like we planned.¡± Janele growled at the line, ¡°Try anything and you¡¯re gone,¡± then she turned and looked at Mark because he presented himself as the one in charge despite the Chinese man doing all the talking, ¡°Hey, you! You some kind of police from the states? Give us our share right now and we¡¯ll get. We want six boxes each.¡± Fedor wobbled away with his pile of boxes without looking back towards the confrontation. He moved back toward the stage where Azoria lazed across her throne gently swaying her legs as they folded over the throne¡¯s skull capped arm. A little bit of a staring contest ensues between Janele and Mark as Lizbet shuffled coins in her palm. The mana cost of keeping the attack ready was quite low, and with her recent training this attack had gained some interesting crowd control implications. Teeth ground as Mark considered his options, as his opponents looked far too confident of their powers. ¡°Did you not see the line? It¡¯s two boxes per person. And you have to give your name.¡± Janele put a hand on her hip and the other up with the palm out, ¡°You want to go Mr. USA police man? You want to learn Brazilian jujitsu the hard way? I can kick your ¨C without my powers, so you don¡¯t want to even deal with me at my new strength. No, no, no. None of this is happening, so give us our boxes and we¡¯ll get. We''re making it easy for you.¡± Scuffed black police shoes spread apart ever so slightly as the baton came out and slapped his left hand. For a moment Janele looked taken aback and that was enough for Mark. ¡°Okay Bonnie and Clyde. Now maybe you have power to cause a whole bunch of problems, but you¡¯re facing my team and a few hundred others behind you who don¡¯t appreciate line jumpers. And they all have powers too. So, I suggest you get that thick hiney of yours to the back of the line and wait your turn.¡± Janele glanced at Lizbet, whose fingers clutched so tightly around the coins she had manifested they turned white. Nickey already entered a combat stance, her full focus on Lizbet. Carson tried to look casual and not sweat. Banko focused on the girl with the money and formulated a plan to restrain her. Darrone manifested shields on his arms as Megan cowered behind him after whispering. Behind them, the line had moved back slightly leaving Ebony isolated. Though a few people in the line had their eyes trained on the two women. Ebony backed up slowly, but also kept watch as best she could. Even Alfredo moved a bit forward, though he looked back toward Circe, hesitant to create too much of a distance from his charge as Fedor approached them. Mark smirked, ¡°I don¡¯t have all day. So, what¡¯s it going to be? 27. Naquela Garagem Rio de Janiero: Cantagalo¨CPav?o¨CPav?ozinho: Fifteen Years Previous An old radio played Naquela Mesa on loop. It was her father¡¯s favorite song, but she never understood why he played it so much. Sometimes he played the radio, but when he really needed to concentrate, the cassette went in and it became Naquela Mesa nonstop. Janelle knew the song by heart. Disc brakes sat piles in the corner of a dusty garage. Bins stacked full of pipes looked ready to spill across the floor. Scrap metal frame parts from various bikes piled in the other corner. A shelf held spare engines and transmissions while seats hung on the wall. Leather for reupholstery formed a pile under the table along with the dusty cardboard boxes filled with packing foam. The better tires were stacked inside the garage along the sliding corrugated tin door. They had a sink that worked next to the shelf that held the oils, coolants, and other fluids. A big plastic barrel held waste oil from countless oil changes. A caged bulb swayed listlessly from an extension cord. Janelle sat cross-legged on a stacked sheets of cardboard and watched as a rugged man took apart an old C100 super club. He removed the front wheel with a wrench set among other tools. The bike remained coated in dried mud, no seat, engine covered in crusty oil streaks, tires rotten, and exhaust pipe rusted through. She pointed, ¡°What are those?¡± ¡°Wires for the battery housing, battery is missing as expected. I¡¯ll see if I can get it working. We¡¯re going to clean the parts that can still be used and keep the frame. Engine is clogged up. I''ll show you how to connect the ignition wires later.¡± A loud knock pounded a half-rotted wood door. Janelle got to her knees and looked over the pile of rust and mud that used to be a functional bike. She picked up a rag and polished the frame until she found a bit of blue paint. ¡°Hey, Renato, working late tonight, you must be swimming in the cash,¡± came the voice of a man with a metal bat. Renato stepped back into the garage against his shoves while his daughter watched, ¡°Especially since you don¡¯t pay any rent.¡± Renato picked up a pipe that stuck out from the scrap crates. ¡°I don¡¯t owe you people nothing, this is my property. I inherited it from my father who inherited it from his father. You don¡¯t have no claim here.¡± ¡°I got a written document from the government establishing our ownership of this property. You can go to the city office and check yourself if you want.¡± Renato affected a laugh, ¡°Nice joke.¡± ¡°You owe us for rent and utilities, one years¡¯ worth. You¡¯ve been warned countless times brother. Now pay up.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have that kind of money. Can¡¯t we come up with some sort of arrangement?¡± Footsteps. Alana descended from the flat built above the garage with a baby in her arms peeked into the garage from the stairway, ¡°Renato, what¡¯s happening? Should I get some snacks for our guests?¡± The third man spit on the floor, ¡°Let¡¯s talk outside. I don¡¯t want to do this in front of his family.¡± Renato clutched the pipe tightly. He looked to his wife, then to his daughter, ¡°It¡¯s nothing. I¡¯m going to sort out a misunderstanding with them. Stay inside.¡± ¡°Papa?¡± Janelle asked, standing up. The four men went outside. The sound of a pipe clanging against a metal baseball bat rang clearly as Janelle was held in place by her shoulder. Her mother forbid her to move. The sound of the hollow pipe clanging against the corrugated garage door followed grunts. Flesh struck flesh with asofter sound. The garage door reverberated loudly as a body slammed against it. Laughing followed. "You have one last month old man, pay your debts, or this will get complicated." They walked away. The night became silent except for a pained groan. Janelle pushed past her mother. The moist night air suffocated her as she swallowed gnats. Renato laid flat on the ground. A laceration opened his forehead. His smashed nose pushed his blody face in. Janelle pushed herself against him. ¡°Papa!¡± He put a gentle hand on her head and ran his fingers through her hair. Alana peeked outside with the baby in her arms, ¡°You should just pay them. We can¡¯t have this. We have a family to protect.¡± ¡°Papa, you can fight. You are strong. Why didn¡¯t you show them? I¡¯ve seen you beat four bigger men. Why did you let them do this to you?¡± He continued to pat her hair, ¡°My beautiful baby girl, you¡¯ll understand soon enough. Be patient and choose your fights. The iron gets struck when it¡¯s hot. Then we take two eyes for an eye.¡± ----- by the time a month passed after the incident at the garage, the three men who assaulted her father had all met with unfortunate accidents. One was taken out by a falling brick, the other a gun shot wound to the chest, and the third had walked out of a bar and collapsed dead. The beatdown her father had taken had many witnesses, so it had only been natural for rumors to spread. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Janelle met Paulo in the narrow alleys on her way to a gated brick building that served as a local school. He went to grab her, but she took hold of his upper arm, pulled him down and rolled him so that his back hit the dirt. He huffed in shock. ¡°Did your father teach you that?¡± ¡°I learned that one myself.¡± Paulo pushed himself up. ¡°Those guys that beat him up all suffered a revenge. Did your father put a curse on them?¡± Janelle made two fists and huffed proudly, ¡°My father doesn¡¯t need no curse. He taught me how to fight. He told me himself that he was going to make them pay.¡± ¡°Really,¡± Paulo said, wide eyed, ¡°I just remembered something. I have to get it. See you at school later, maybe, if I decide to come back today.¡± Paulo waved as he ran off through the narrow street. His dirty sneakers splashed a muddy puddle. ----- School had been boring. She¡¯d endured an entire day of sitting on the floor with a letter book and a number book. The entire time she thought of home and the feijoada that her mother began preparing this morning. Her father had bought some parts for that old bike from some salvage yards. They¡¯d soon start on putting it together. As she approached her home. She noticed the crowds had stopped. They were staring upwards. She ran forward to an open space and tried to stare through the backs of gawkers. The body of a man swayed above them. An extension cord wrapped his neck as he swayed listlessly from electric wires with a caged light bulb burning next to his face. Renato''s face had become bloated and purple in the heat. The left cheek burned against the light. A cardboard sign hung over his chest. Um grande peda?o de merda ----- In that garage he always worked And he always told me what it means to live better In that garage he told stories That today in my memory I keep and know by heart In that garage he gathered people And he happily fixed their broken machines And there was so much shine in your eyes More than your daughter I became your fan I didn''t know it hurt so much A pile of scraps, a barrel of oil, and a collection of tools If I knew how much life hurts How this painful loss hurts like this Now there is but one bike left in that garage And today, no one talks about you, anymore ----- Fifteen Years Later There had never been an investigation. The police had never showed up. No evidence had been gathered. A rival syndicate had disposed of the body. Her mother had arranged with them for protection. They had even covered her father¡¯s funeral expenses. Reasonable rent allowed them to continue living at the garage. Janelle quit school and became a set of eyes for her new landlord, eventually becoming a body guard. She spent her free time in the garage, learning to repair bikes on her own from her father¡¯s greasy manuals. She¡¯d gotten strong, her legs and arms muscular. Nobody messed with her. Outside, not far from home, she sat on the seat of the old blue c100 Wonda bike and smoked a cigarette as a bunch of rats scurried across the broken cement path. The night air sat still as clouds floated past the moon. Lightning thundered in the distance while flashes brightened the sky. Smoking here helped her avoid a scolding from her mother. ¡°I know who killed Renato.¡± The soft gentle voice sounded like a nun from a convent. When Janelle looked, a robed woman with closed eyes in a nun¡¯s frock with a high habit stood in the middle of the alley. She had ivory skin that rivaled the lightning flashes in paleness. Blind holy woman or not, Janelle didn¡¯t hesitate to pull out a knife at the mention of her father¡¯s name. It found itself perilously close to the blind holy woman¡¯s throat. ¡°What would you know about my father¡¯s murder?¡± The nun smiled, eyes remaining closed, ¡°I¡¯m a seer. I know things.¡± ¡°Tell me what you know!¡± ¡°Paulo is coming. He will take you directly to the man who murdered Renato. He works for them. But if you learn the truth, misfortune will befall you. Don¡¯t go home tonight.¡± The nun vanished. An apparition! A spirit! Janelle had never believed in anything superstitious, but she believed now. The knife went back in her belt. And as if on cue, Paulo waved to her as she finished her cigarette while calming down. ¡°Janelle, hey!¡± he called, ¡°There is somebody really important at your garage. They want some work done on a custom model. I know it¡¯s late, but I¡¯m talking huge important. Good money too! I wouldn¡¯t keep them waiting.¡± Janelle stared through him. That day. It all made sense now. He ratted them out to his bosses. Her bragging had sealed her father¡¯s fate. The garage wasn¡¯t far, she could walk her bike the rest of the way. The lightbulb swung from the center of the garage as she stepped inside with Paulo behind her. A short man in a suit stood in the center of the garage. She¡¯d never seen him before in her life, yet white hot rage boiled over. ¡°Janelle what!?¡± The knife came out as she rushed toward the suited man. The tip of the blade sliced skin and slid off the collar bone. She raised the blade again. A gunshot blasted from behind. The bullet struck her spine. Knife clattered against the dirty cement floor. Blood ran down from her back toward a French drain as the suited man stepped back out of her way. She fell face first. ¡°I''m bleeding! Did you bring me here to have her kill me? Is that what this is!?¡± Paulo holstered his beretta, ¡°No sir, I had no idea she¡¯d do that! She¡¯s usually cool! You asked to come here yourself. I had nothing to do with that! I mean, maybe she mistook you for somebody else? I swear sir, I don''t know nothing about this!¡± The man kicked her body, ¡°Little piece of crap. Nobody else is home. Let¡¯s go. I need to get this taken care of and you and I are going to have a big talk.¡± They left with Janelle on the garage floor bleeding out. The nun appeared; eyes remaining closed. She whispered an inaudible blessing as Janelle struggle to look up. ¡°When I go to hell, I want to be able to kill, again and again. I want to kill them endlessly, forever. In hell.¡± The nun¡¯s eyes opened. The red glow overpowered the light bulb above them. ¡°Your blessing has been granted. Come play a game with me.¡± The old cassette player clicked on one last time. The tape began spinning with the final words of the song. But the lyrics were a little different. She''s missing from that garage And missing her is hurting me 28. Get Ready To Fry! An oscillating fan moved around the gym slowly. The hot moist air laid so heavily that it could barely push the atmosphere inside this baking box of cinderblock. A pile of English books rested in the corner on a pile of supports from a broken bomb flex machine that had become a disassembled pile of wires and metal. The punching bag still swayed gently from the last use. A map of Indore hung on the wall along with some motivational posters of some incredibly muscular men and one very muscular orange cat with black stripes. The CD player screamed: Get Ready To Fight! Sundara laid over the bench. His knuckles turned white as he lifted the bar, then ever so slowly lowered the heavy weights to his chest before raising them back up. Sweat dripped from his body. He picked them up and then put them down again until he had done fifteen reps and his arms felt like noodles. He sat up with a glance toward the puddle of sweat under the bench. He took a big gulp of sports drink before wiping his head with a towel. A big mirror lined the right wall. He looked at his body and flexed. The radio perked up and another song squelched out from his mix tape. Body! Body! Wanna feel my body baby! He had time to flex while listening. His biceps were big, he had perfectly defined abs, his legs bulged with muscular definition. His neck wasn¡¯t too big but he didn¡¯t want that. Pectorals could bounce on their own across his broad chest. Shoulders were strong supports for his beefy arms. He flung the towel over the back of a metal folding chair as he directed the fan on himself. Then he found a muscle shirt. There would be no time to shower. He¡¯d be sweating all day at his weekend job anyway. Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Mach- He clicked the player off. If he lingered here much longer, he¡¯d be late for work. A key chain rested near the radio with a toy of a fat orange and black striped cat and a yellow dog with a big tongue hanging out. He clutched the keys and walked outside the cinder block building. His grandmother sat on a blanket. The old woman was recognized as a lucky merchant and told fortunes. There was always another elder chatting with her and sometimes there was a line of people waiting to receive her wisdoms for a small price. She sold a small collection of handmade charms and jewelry as well. He gave his grandmother his most loving and respectful salute before hoping on his bike and riding off to the eastern side of the city of Indore. It would take a while to navigate to the bigger roads and it was incredibly hot, so the winds from riding in the old Wonda cc50 did not provide much relief. Instead, the sun beat down upon his dark skin like a beast breathing fire from above. It would take an hour of driving like this before he reached the Madresh Water Park employee lot. Security waved him through once he presented his ID. A steel warehouse served as the employee check-in. Sundara grabbed his punch card and managed to punch in with but a minute to spare. A woman stood behind him. Her presence so sudden that when he turned around, he almost fell back against the time clock with a shout. He wiped his head. His tongue felt a bit swollen and his mouth tacky. The fountain was just a few meters away, but this pale white-haired woman in glasses looked very important. He¡¯d never seen such colored eyes before, were they naturally red? ¡°Greetings Sundara, it¡¯s good to meet you. I¡¯m staff director Azoria Singh from Pradesh Gas, Mogg-dell from corporate sent me to speak with you directly. We have a huge opportunity for you if you wish to earn triple pay for the day.¡± His head went forward and his eyes opened slightly. If she was a foreigner then she spoke perfect, Hindi though with a bit of a southern accent. Was she from Bengaluru? Perhaps she was an albino woman? He had to admit there was a huge allure to her presence and he flexed slightly to try and impress her. It was not terribly difficult for him to bed any woman he wanted at least once but this one felt beyond his reach. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°Triple pay? But I don¡¯t work for Pradesh. I work for Mangalore Fun Park.¡± Azoria handed him some paperwork as she pushed up her glasses, ¡°We¡¯re collaborating with Mangalore Fun Park to promote our new mascot. But our employee did not show. Mr. Pranesh said that you would be perfect for the role and I see that you would fit the suit perfectly.¡± Sundara looked a bit skeptical, but it looked official and she offered triple pay. He grabbed a pen from the top of the time clock and started signing the paper work. This was a chance, maybe even for a new part time job that would pay more. Azoria smiled, ¡°There¡¯s not much time. Please follow me. The job is very simple. We just need you to wear the mascot suit. The voice modulator in the suit will say her lines. Just wave and do some fun gestures when people approach.¡± A mascot outfit hung on the wall. It was a costume of a cartoon style girl with flame patterned hair and eyes. She was wearing baggy violet pants and a matching bandeau with a flame pattern of the Pradesh Paradise Gas Company on the left side of her bosom. She had a big head with cute fiery eyes and the hair pattern had streamers attached to it. ¡°Well, you signed the papers so in you go!¡± Legs first. His biking boots had to come off. The foam insulation hugged his feet and ankles. He put his arms in the cuffs and noticed he could wear the mascots gloved fingers over his own. This suit fit him like a glove. He hadn¡¯t gotten used to it and was about to back out when he heard a loud: Ziiiiiiiiiiiiiiip! His face pushed against the tube that he¡¯d have to breath through so he opened his mouth and wrapped his lips around it. Little fire streamers puffed out from the mascot¡¯s lips when he breathed. But even so, he had already been sweating in the hot warehouse and now he fast soaked the inside of this costume. He tried to say something through the tube, but the mascot¡¯s high pitch voice activated instead. ¡°Gas is clean burning energy!¡± Azoria patted the skin patterned felt cloth of the mascot¡¯s back, ¡°You¡¯re perfect, perhaps we¡¯ll give you a bonus and have you continue with us permanently after today''s work. You are now Anna Jalaana." ¡°I¡¯m Anna Jalaana. Nice to meet you! Let¡¯s save the planet!¡± the mascot said with a sweet giggle, ¡°Tee hee!¡± Azoria took Sundara by the hand and giggled herself as she led him outside into the hot sun of the water park. She leaned against him and he swore he could feel the shape of her body even through the thick mascot costume. He sniffed and became tense. The costume became a bit tighter as she tickled him. ¡°If you help make Anna famous, perhaps you can join me in a fun game later. I¡¯m so looking forward to it. But I need to get out of the sun.¡± She opened a black umbrella and walked behind him, but when he turned around, she was gone. If the inside of the mascot was baking before, now he felt like he was melting into it. He found himself amidst the crowds of parents and children enjoying the water park. Some of the children ran up to him and he got distracted. He still had to do his job after all. He waved to the kids. One wanted picked up, so he had to hold her while her parents took a picture. ¡°Gas is great for the environment!¡± The kids and parents wouldn¡¯t leave him alone. From inside his mobile oven, he became agitated. It remained steamy inside but he didn¡¯t sweat as much. His tongue felt twice as big as normal and his body burned. But he couldn¡¯t take off the head in front of park patrons, he¡¯d lose his bonus, the beautiful albino woman would scorn him, he¡¯d lose his opportunity. Still, it was too much, even if somebody saw he just needed a few minutes to breathe fresh air and get water from the fountain, or even better, a couple of sports drinks from a stall. He found a fountain and reached back to find the clasp that closed the head. Gloved fingers rubbed across a smooth felt surface. What!? He clutched the back of the costume¡¯s neck and tried to tear it open. His muscles tensed and cramped. Skin rashed as it tingled. He needed water bad! The sun continued to bake down on the flaming hair of the mascot. Anna danced and stomped her feet. ¡°Gas! Gas! Gas! Let¡¯s put coal in the past!¡± she sang with a giggle. A group of kids from the water slides surrounded the mascot, one kicked Anna shin hard enough to make Sundara wince even through his growing delirium. He tried to use all his strength to rip the mascot open from the front of the neck but the fabric wouldn¡¯t budge. ¡°Greetings! I¡¯m Anna Jalaana! Let¡¯s gas into the future together!¡± Children laughed at the crazy antics of the mascot. A heavyset boy punched her in the crotch. Luckily the thick padding buffered the blow somewhat. Sundara retreated from the water fountain and kept running until he leaned against a tree. ¡°Greetings! I¡¯m Anna Jalaana! Let¡¯s gas into the future together!¡± I¡¯m Anna Jalaana, Sundara thought as he felt a wave energy go through his pounding head. She loved clean energy. She loved gas! Gas was the future. Switch to gas for our children. The sunny water park was so very beautiful. She loved the children and their parents and waved to them as she passed them by. Occasionally she tried to rip her skin off and did a crazy dance that made passersby laugh and clap. She needed water! She needed air! Anna ran head first into a tree, but it didn¡¯t seem to phase her too much as patrons took videos of the crazy mascot¡¯s antics. Some even clapped. It was the most wonderful of times. ¡°Get Ready to Fight! For Gas!¡± Alana said with a cute voice box giggle, ¡°Let¡¯s save the woooruuff grrruuuuu gethuuuu!¡± She took a step forward as vomit leaked from the breathing tube and voice box. Then she collapsed into the burning hot pavement. Hotter than ever. Frying in the sun. Dry. Burning. A bunch of kids thought this was so amazing that they ran up to the fallen mascot and began bouncing on her. ¡°Switch to Gas! Tee Heeeee...eeeee-eee~!¡± 29. Cold Irons Lizbet scanned the scene. The baton smacked menacingly into the officer¡¯s palm in a slow steady rhythm as the stand-off ensued. A slight wind picked up around the Asian guy in the suit; several paper cranes flew around him as his tie blew upwards. He kept a hand behind his back. Cranes continued to manifest and fly around him. She wasn¡¯t sure what they did, but she didn¡¯t want to find out. The tall man had shields ready and had taken a tense fighting stance as -was that the girl they killed earlier!? It couldn¡¯t be! She looked way too short. Her attention diverted to the thin girl who bounced around on her heels with her fists raised. The boy nearby had dirt or small rocks tightly wound and floating in spherical formation above his palms. What if his power was similar to hers? These people had taken down the berserker for a reason. What were they even thinking charging in to demand food like this!? Even that chubby middle-aged woman with the thorn tattoos on her arm scowled as she made a fist. None of this could work, Lizbet thought, they had picked off a bunch of chumps by suprise and gained some power. But even with their training, they couldn¡¯t handle this many people. Several contestants from the queue approached cautiously. Janele stood still but her hand crept toward her belt for the knife. ¡°I said freeze!¡± Mark commanded. His eagle eye activated whenever it came to the possibility of anyone reaching for a weapon. ¡°Janele! We can¡¯t win this! Let¡¯s make a deal and get out of here,¡± Lizbet said. ¡°You stupid! You just said my name, now these people can look us up, LIZBET!¡± Lizbet put her free hand in front of her mouth. But this was for the best, they would die if Janele insisted on a fight here. And she still had some supplies in her picnic bag should they leave empty handed. ¡°I¡¯d listen to your friend, JANELE!¡± Carson said. ¡°You!¡± Mark barked at Megan while pointing with his baton as she cowered behind Darrone, ¡°Make yourself useful and look those two up, Janele and Lizbet.¡± Megan took a step back and saluted, ¡°Yes, yes sir!¡± She remained behind Darrone¡¯s protection and summoned her holographic interface with the name index. Janele and Lizbet held their ground, but they had too many people to keep track of and now their powers would soon be revealed. Several people who weren¡¯t in combat stance checked the index and shared the information. The queue lit with index screens. Janele spit. Janele Belo Daddy Issues
Skills Description
Useless Revival 05 Can revive a target once a day. If the target is killed within ten minutes after revival this skill can be used again. If the target survives past ten minutes, the caster¡¯s heart explodes. Levels into Pointless Revival.
Enhanced Dark Blast Novice 05 Standard darkness blast power increased by five percent. Costs five percent less mana to use. Gains five percent higher resistance to light shields. Levels only by using dark revival skills.
Dark Kicking Novice 05 Your kicks are five percent more likely to land as a critical hit. You can utilize a power kick with five percent increased strength once per day. Levels only by using dark revival skills.
Dark Punching Novice 05 Your punches are five percent more likely to land as a critical hit. You can utilize a power punch with five percent increased strength once per day. Levels only by using dark revival skills.
Nightmare Blade Novice 08 Attacks with short blades have an eight percent power bonus and are eight percent more likely to land a critical hit. Effects are doubled when used in tandem with Dark Revival Skills.
Passives Description
Dark Mind Novice 01: Dark spirit stat growth bonus of 10 percent. Dark spirit energy is five percent less effective when used against you. Dark spirit infused attacks are five percent more powerful.
Curses Description
Spiritual Imbalance 01 Your ability to infuse spirit through your body is reduced by half. Your ability to control the flow of spirit other than dark will only be active for one hour daily.
Vital Statistics # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat #
Perception 97 Sight 81 Hearing 103 Touch 59 Awareness 99 Spiritual 40 Nil Nil
Strength 68 Arms 51 Legs 77 Torso 68 Back 74 Grip 52 Nil Nil
Toughness 63 Blunt 85 Slice 51 Pressure 38 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Stamina 110 Heart 85 Lungs 74 Arms 103 Legs 134 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Speed 87 Swim 78 Swing 99 Run 99 Think 75 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Agility 85 Arms 89 Legs 96 Torso 65 Back 81 Fingers 66 Nil Nil
Fortitude 17 Magic Def 03 Mental Def 03 Stability 13 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Intelligence 46 Emotional 33 Scientific 06 Spiritual 04 Interpersonal 34 Bestial 55 Creative 68
Magic 30 Fire 30 Ice 41 Water 31 Wind 20 Earth 30 Nil Nil
Spirit 95 Restoration 55 Illusion 83 Life 89 Dark 211 Light 09 Resistance 10
Luck 31 Money 01 Combat 73 Magic 55 Relational 15 Nil Nil Nil Nil
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Lizbet Rodriguez Compulsive Gambler
Skills Description
Lucky Coin 05 Manifests a pile of thirteen lucky coins. These coins can be shot with high acceleration at up to two targets with fifteen percent increased accuracy over normal spells. If the target dies within four minutes, the spell can be cast again. If the target lives, the spell goes on cooldown for three days.
Chains of Debt Novice 01 Summons chains from the earth to restrict an opponent¡¯s movement and weight them down. Can only be used if the opponent is indebted to you verbally or by written contract. The power and number of the chain scales with the size of the debt, relevant statitistics, and level of the skill. The chains can not be removed until the debt is released or paid.
Contract of Debt Novice 01 Can make one spiritual contract a month. Chains formed via contract are more powerful than verbally formed chains. The power and ability of the chains depend on the wording of the contract. Lenient contracts provide more power but are easier to break. Harsh contracts are difficult to break but give less power.
Capture Via Contract Novice 01 Can force a non-contestant being into a contract without their consent once a month if their overall level is less than half of yours.
Passives Description
Refuse Worker Novice 01: You can manage to perceive resources ten percent more efficiently amidst refuse, waste, chaos, and filth.
Curses Description
Mana Drain 01 Maintaining contracts drains an unspecified amount of mana over time.
Hidden Curse 01 This curse is hidden from the index and can only be viewed by the inflicted.
Vital Statistics # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat #
Perception 61 Sight 45 Hearing 55 Touch 45 Awareness 65 Spiritual 60 Nil Nil
Strength 50 Arms 50 Legs 50 Torso 50 Back 50 Grip 50 Nil Nil
Toughness 50 Blunt 50 Slice 50 Pressure 50 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Stamina 50 Heart 50 Lungs 50 Arms 50 Legs 50 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Speed 53 Swim 50 Swing 50 Run 55 Think 55 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Agility 50 Arms 50 Legs 50 Torso 50 Back 50 Fingers 50 Nil Nil
Fortitude 50 Magic Def 10 Mental Def 75 Stability 75 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Intelligence 50 Emotional 10 Scientific 70 Spiritual 30 Interpersonal 90 Bestial 20 Creative 60
Magic 74 Fire 54 Ice 10 Water 12 Wind 109 Earth 130 Nil Nil
Spirit 50 Restoration 10 Illusion 70 Life 10 Dark 50 Light 50 Resistance 80
Luck 50 Money 50 Combat 50 Magic 50 Relational 50 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Now Janele took a moment to think. Seeing her name and her stats appear on several different screens didn¡¯t reassure her. Lizbet looked shaken and who knew how that would affect her accuracy when they would need the attacks to kill. This wasn¡¯t an ambush where they had the upper hand and the lie that they could take out a multitude in one shot had been uncovered by those stupid indexes. What was the purpose in everyone knowing about everyone else''s power? Even with a good first attack, too many people would close in and overwhelm them. But Janele didn¡¯t want to appear weak. At the very least they couldn¡¯t read mana, health, stamina, and sanity bars without being shown them directly. So, they wouldn¡¯t know that both of them were running on a quarter of a mana bar. Lizbet slightly raised her hand with the pile of silver coins, ¡°I can take out two people instantly with my attack. Who wants to take a bet that it won¡¯t be them?¡± The bluff sent people backing into the line to hide behind others for cover. Janele knew the coins could miss, as she''d seen them fail to finish multiple times. The team facing them didn¡¯t flinch. The Asian man continued manifesting flying cranes as the hoodie boy increased the size of his floating dirt collection. Three members of the line stood firm in the open behind them. The chubby lady with the tattoos held her ground with an angry stance. An intimidating woman with flaming hair and eyes formed balls of fire in both hands. She wore a yellow bandeau with a flame logo. Her pants were baggy and she looked like something out of a fighting anime. The outfit displayed the muscular arms and abs of a power lifter''s physique. Nearby was an Asian woman who looked like the main character of a horror movie with her long black hair and pale skin. She stood angrily with arms akimbo as she shook her head. Her outfit didn''t match her appearance because it was some pink and cutesy dress with ribbons, though burns and frayed threads covered the fabric. Janele returned her focus to the gringo who kept slapping his baton like he was made of steel and narrowed her eyes. Her father¡¯s words played in her head: The iron gets struck when it¡¯s hot and then we take two eyes for an eye. The iron felt cold to the touch right now, frozen. They were surrounded by cold irons. ¡°You heard her pig cop,¡± Janele said, ¡°Give us two boxes each and we¡¯ll leave peacefully. We''re on the same team after all. Honorary demonians should stick together, right? What good is being on the same team if we can''t negotiate a bit? Why kill each other over some boxes? Am I right?¡± ¡°Okay, teammates. One box each,¡± Mark said, ¡°And then I want you to walk slowly into one of those portals with your hands where I can see them.¡± Janele took a deep, deep, breath through her nose. She would be seeing this pig again, of that she was certain. ¡°Fine.¡± The boxed arced in the air and Janele caught them with no problem. After catching the boxes she put her hands above her shoulders, but still held the food. Lizbet¡¯s boxes landed at her feet. A small flock of various colored roaches flew past as she bent to pick them up with one hand and stuff them in her bag. The coins stayed tightly clenched in the other. Janele and Lizbet backed away from the group, so many eyes on them. They became the stars of the show. Janele refused to turn her back on the crowd and kept her eyes trained on Mark all the way to portal number five. Lizbet went first, her face lit with a slight smile as she entered the portal. Janele remained serious. They disappeared in a swirl of purple smokey energy. An assortment of crawling bright blues, oranges, reds, greens, and yellows skittered over the portal doors. 30. Pleased To Meat You A dull aching pain throbbed through her head. A wave of her hand bought a small screen into existence that was simply a graph with a single bar. Her nearly exhausted mana visibly recovered as the average length of the bar slowly became longer. The right index finger tapped against her cheek. Distressed screaming in the background interfered with her concentration, but it wasn¡¯t nearly as bad as what she heard while using the public transportation in New York. ¡°Okay, so I was a little too enthusiastic with my roach decoration powers. Maybe I should be like a normal person and hate roaches, right?¡± She looked past Alfredo towards the line where the doctor had gone to get food. ¡°Really stupid of me not to introduce myself. What if something bad happens and I don¡¯t get to thank her? That would make me depressed all over again.¡± Alfredo looked back, ¡°Yuh talkin¡¯ to yourself again?¡± Circe put her arms around her chest, ¡°So what If I am? I¡¯m the most interesting person I know, right?¡± There was no response and Circe spaced out a moment before they saw the butcher wobble over. The cleaver wielding meat meister no longer moved with the intimidating speed displayed during the battle. Circe squinted; the movements of the fat blurry body reminded her of a woobler toy that wobbled about but couldn¡¯t fall down. Wait! The big scary guy was coming her way. Why was the big, bloody, scary guy who chopped people coming her way? A pile of boxes weighed the sliced fabric of the bloody apron. The big man¡¯s fingers, especially around knuckles, were covered in scabs. His exposed arms were crisscrossed with tightly glued together lacerations. Circe squinted to see the fresh wounds on his body, somehow self-sutured. Damaged flesh was not something she wanted to look at but when she diverted her gaze, she saw her right leg with its roach infested splint. Alfredo took up guard and stepped between Fedor and Circe, ¡°Whaddya want with her? She ain¡¯t got no business with your kind.¡± ¡°I only want to be helping. Your American friend will not be giving your group any of the foods. So, I am saying that you can be taking some of mine. It is too heavy for me to be carrying much longer anyways.¡± Circe bent her good leg and pushed herself to stand. Roaches clicked as they stiffened over her splint. They worked together and because Circe was careful how she walked they did not get crushed by her weight. Her bestial intelligence ticked upwards. There wasn¡¯t a notification but she sensed it nevertheless. It was easier to see the big man¡¯s face if she stood because he towered over her. Her face barely reached his breasts. Even Alfredo, who raised his fists, stood a full head shorter than the big Russian. A snarling growl that didn¡¯t sound human pushed from between chapped lips as teeth bit down. A gentle tug on his shirt would snap him out of defensively hostile posture. Alfredo turned back to see a gentle smile and soft eyes as Circe looked up at him. His expression softened and his posture relaxed. She thought he looked a lot better with his gray hair slowly becoming an inky black. ¡°Thanks, but I don¡¯t think he means any harm. He said he wants to give us food. What¡¯s getting into you?¡± Alfredo deflated slightly before he turned back to face the Russian, ¡°Oh, yeah, umm, if... wait a minute here. This guy was butchering a corpse way over there when we first seen him! How are yuh supposed to trust that?¡± Fedor frowned, ¡°They was already being the dead. Meat is meat.¡± Alfredo blinked. Circe blinked. Her head tilted slightly and her mouth hung open. Then she smiled again. Perhaps this social thing wouldn¡¯t be so difficult, after all, she¡¯d read a ton of romance novels. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°You do you, I guess. But how are you going to keep the meat fresh? There is no refrigeration and no place to cook it.¡± Alfredo shivered as Fedor tilted his head thoughtfully while keeping a hold of his apron full of nutrition bar, ¡°You speak wisdom Dead Meat. I was not thinking of such problems. I also have no pallet and no plastic wrappings. And I am injured. So... I will not be working much until feeling better.¡± Circe did a curtsey. Alfredo shivered and then blinked. ¡°It¡¯s nice to meat you, sir butcher. My name is Circe Oratia Shefeild, at your service.¡± Fedor laughed, he laughed so heartily that his entire body shook and wobbled. He continued to laugh despite the pain of his wounds. Alfredo growled quietly in a low pitch at this interaction. The entire pile of food bars fell at their feet as Fedor dropped his apron to hold his belly in the midst of a deep laugh. The growl from Alfredo continued as if he was some wary wolf. ¡°You can call me Fedor. I am good butcher. Not needing food bar. I can be eating what you can¡¯t be eating. So, it¡¯s good, da? Dead Meat, I am glad to have been saving your life now, so please be taking the care!¡± When did he save her life? The back of her hand went across her eyes as he started walking away. Her legs shook so much that the roaches had more work to do to stabilize her splint. Carefully, slowly, Circe sat back down and stretched out. A deep breath went through her lips, followed by three more as a droplet of sweat dripped from her forehead. ¡°Are yuh okay?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine, he¡¯s really not so bad after all. But I think I haven¡¯t gotten over it yet. I wish I had my glasses. I can barely see what¡¯s happening at the line.¡± The cave was a bit bright from the glowing rocks lining the ceiling and walls. In some spots, looking up was like staring at a white sun and hurt the eyes. Alfredo even put a hand over his forehead as he scanned Fedor walking away first, and then the line. There were still too many people to keep track of them all. Two women walking backwards towards the exits and disappearing into the purple swirl of the steamy void caught his attention. The line and the crew managing food distribution released their combat stances after the duo vanished. Some others also left without bothering about the food line. Alfredo raised his hand and waved to Ebony but couldn¡¯t get her attention. Hands went on her hips. The officer¡¯s baton pointed in their direction. He could hear a hushed argument but couldn¡¯t make out the words because the people in line kept blabbing. The Nutrition Bars Fedor had dumped with them were now between Circe¡¯s legs as she distracted herself by making a little castle out of them. The officer said something to the others in the group before he beckoned Ebony and they began approaching. The group continued the distribution, yet Fedor turned around and focused his stare on the officer while reaching for his cleaver. Slowly, the big man crept a bit closer. All the while, red, blue, and bright neon green roaches crawled around Circe¡¯s little castle of nutrition bars. Their voices became clearer as they approached. ¡°He¡¯s on your team, if he decided to give her a bunch of food then you need to consult with him. It¡¯s not our problem.¡± ¡°I¡¯m about to make it your problem miss.¡± Since he approached Circe, Alfredo jumped in the way before he could get too close. An empty plastic shopping bag came out of Mark¡¯s pocket. It crinkled as he whipped it a few times open it. ¡°Get out of my way old man,¡± Mark said, ¡°I¡¯m reclaiming those nutrition bars. You can keep one each and that''s because I''m generous.¡± Fedor pointed his cleaver, ¡°Nyet! You will not be claiming them. They are mine and I can be giving them freely.¡± ¡°They aren¡¯t even Demonians! These two are opposing Azoria and the little idiot waif couldn¡¯t even find the brainpower to make a decision! You either keep those bars or give them back so we can feed Azoria¡¯s people.¡± Circe looked up and frowned. The officer had returned. Slowly, carefully, she stood. ¡°You¡¯re the one who is the idiot.¡± The baton came out and slapped against Mark¡¯s palm, yet the officer backed up as Alfredo approached. The plastic bag crinkled. ¡°What was that?¡± Mark asked. Circe hobbled around her castle and took a few steps towards him, even going so far as to push at Alfredo to encourage him to move aside. She looked up the officer with a squint. A flash of memory lit her face. ¡°You tried to get me killed and now you¡¯re trying to steal my food. What do you have against me? Is it because I looked at your name, Mark?¡± That was his name right, something fancy starting with Mark? Had she remembered it correctly? His middle name was harvard and the last name was Belvedere or something like that, right? If she had just said the wrong name her entire act would look stupid. She could hear a shoe squeak on the granite floor and deep breaths through flared nostrils. That sounded like agitation to her. Win! His voice did not go towards her next. ¡°You better not pull anything like this again you fatso clown. I don¡¯t want to have to question your loyalty to Azoria. I saw you take the pledge; you were one of the first to kneel. So, act like it!¡± Circe took a step forward but Alfredo¡¯s arm barred the way. Obediently, she went no further. Touching that man for forty seconds wasn¡¯t worth it anyway. "He tried tuh curb stomp yuh while yuh were out cold. He''s not just some bad cop. He''s a complete psycho." Circe squinted before looking towards Ebony and giving a little curtsey. 31. Azorias Mercy The food line dissipated. The portals bloomed as contestants choose numbers and took a complimentary mint. As time passed the cave became emptier, though the screaming of wounded who couldn¡¯t move well persisted. Nobody within the confines of the cave was allowed to sleep or fall into unconsciousness until the wake-up call was rescinded. Ebony looked terrible, her eyelids hung heavy and bleary and her arms swayed limply. A bit of drool dripped into a small puddle between her feet. ¡°Yuh gave tuh big guy your name. Yuh sure that was a good idea?¡± Circe shrugged, ¡°He gave his in return. And I got to thank Ebony too. But I¡¯m starting to worry about her. She doesn¡¯t look so good.¡± ¡°I jus weeed a biddle wap es ull,¡± Ebony mumbled, drooling more. Circe had managed to pull up two separate screens. On one side Fedor¡¯s stats were displayed on the other side Ebony¡¯s. Sure, she could narrow down her search to only see specifics, but she really wanted a general overview of her possible allies. Surely Ebony would be able to do the same when she felt better, right? Fedor Kazokov Dumpling
Skills Description
Sticky Fat Novice 02 Once a day, fat that is cut or sliced can stick itself back together to heal. These wounds heal completely over time. Must consume 5kg of humanoid product once a day for this skill to remain effective.
Fat Becomes Muscle Novice 02 For ten minutes a day body fat is ambulatory and can be moved and shifted like a muscle. Must consume 5kg of humanoid product once a day for this skill to remain effective
Chopping Novice 09 Attacks with a cleaver are nineteen percent stronger and one percent faster.
Muscle Compensation Novice 03 Muscles are thirteen percent more powerful and strength increases ten percent faster than normal
Passives Description
Steel Gullet Novice 02 Rotton food has no harmful effects. You can digest cellulose. Biological poisons, parasites, viruses, and bacteria, that enter the stomach will be neutralized.
Can O'' Ball Novice 02 Consumption of humanoid products increases strength and toughness stats by two percent per kilogram consumed.
Curses Description
Thin Doesn''t Win 01 You must consume 20,000 calories a day minimum to maintain your weight. Weight loss will severely degrade your stats.
Vital Statistics # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat #
Perception 78 Sight 95 Hearing 45 Touch 97 Awareness 33 Spiritual 11 Scent 153
Strength 101 Arms 108 Legs 85 Torso 89 Back 103 Grip 116 Nil Nil
Toughness 88 Blunt 98 Slice 88 Pressure 78 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Stamina 20 Heart 11 Lungs 11 Arms 62 Legs 53 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Speed 35 Swim 01 Swing 98 Run 33 Think 15 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Agility 38 Arms 84 Legs 19 Torso 03 Back 04 Fingers 87 Nil Nil
Fortitude 47 Magic Def 47 Mental Def 47 Stability 47 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Intelligence 43 Emotional 23 Scientific 59 Spiritual 01 Interpersonal 31 Bestial 82 Creative 45
Magic 55 Fire 77 Ice 74 Water 34 Wind 05 Earth 05 Nil Nil
Spirit 51 Restoration 01 Illusion 01 Life 01 Dark 34 Light 01 Resistance 69
Luck 15 Money 11 Combat 43 Magic 11 Relational 01 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Ebony Rhodes Sleepy Placebo The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Skills Description
Diagnosis Novice 03 Can diagnose one patient with one hundred percent accuracy for three minutes once a day.
Medicine Novice 03 Can manifest a small dose of medicine into the patient¡¯s body once per day. Can manifest a toxin into a patient¡¯s body once per day.
Placebo Novice 03 A minimal healing blessing that does nothing unless the patient believes in it.
Passives Description
Holy Sword Novice 01 Imbues any sword equipped with holy attribute.
Curses Description
Narcolepsy 03 You require twelve hours of sleep daily or you risk falling asleep involuntarily. Risk increases the longer you stay awake past twelve hours. Lack of sleep lowers sanity.
Vital Statistics # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat #
Perception 78 Sight 76 Hearing 75 Touch 80 Awareness 75 Spiritual 77 Nil Nil
Strength 51 Arms 50 Legs 43 Torso 49 Back 43 Grip 73 Nil Nil
Toughness 81 Blunt 89 Slice 64 Pressure 95 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Stamina 65 Heart 63 Lungs 69 Arms 66 Legs 65 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Speed 37 Swim 11 Swing 60 Run 19 Think 81 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Agility 44 Arms 43 Legs 32 Torso 33 Back 25 Fingers 88 Nil Nil
Fortitude 76 Magic Def 75 Mental Def 76 Stability 71 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Intelligence 91 Emotional 70 Scientific 101 Spiritual 77 Interpersonal 95 Bestial 71 Creative 66
Magic 20 Fire 10 Ice 20 Water 30 Wind 11 Earth 13 Nil Nil
Spirit 61 Restoration 101 Illusion 15 Life 55 Dark 09 Light 79 Resistance 83
Luck 36 Money 12 Combat 34 Magic 22 Relational 84 Nil Nil Nil Nil
A little sigh escaped as she read that nickname, Dumpling. He kind of looked like a dumpling. Normally she might have giggled. But right now, not a drop of mirth could be found in her system. The rest of the information made her shudder and regret her offhanded talk about cannibalism earlier. Considering his curse, it seemed like he should have kept the energy bars. A glance his way wasn¡¯t needed. His big wobbly body bounded over to the corpses, so Circe looked away because she needn¡¯t use her imagination to know what would happen next. Any thoughts of mirth at his nickname ended. Chopping sounds reached her ears followed by the breaking and cracking of bone. A sickening slurp whispered against her ear across the distance of several meters. Alfredo could see it more clearly. The back rolls of the giant man strained against his shirt while he sat over the headless corpse of Adonis. Cleaver rose and fell to slice flesh off the limbs held between his fat legs. The smacking of lips and crunching of teeth sounded like a pack of animals tearing a carcass. The roach infested pieces of Adonis¡¯ first victim rested nearby. Circe decided to pretend none of it was happening and that the sounds were something else, anything else. She closed Fedor¡¯s screen now that she had an idea how he operated and concentrated on her new friend and ally. Placebo healing? Did that mean it wouldn¡¯t help her anymore now that she read the stat bar and knew it was just a placebo spell? Well, even if it was just a placebo, belief was ultimately a choice, right? So, she would choose to believe in Ebony¡¯s abilities. The woman had saved her life. A glance towards the doctor made her frown. She needed help and right now. The woman had become sunken, slumped. Drool dripped on the floor. A dead fish eyed stare languished forward as she mumbled some sort of sleepy nonsense. Suddenly Ebony slumped as she sat on the floor. Her torso fell to the left and she laid on her side. The woman stared toward Circe as sleep refused to come. A small hand waved hesitantly in the doctor¡¯s line of vision, but barely a response issued forth except an exhausted moan. ¡°I don¡¯t know what tuh do for her,¡± Alfredo said. Circe shook her head as her face reddened. Nothing. That was what they could do to help the person who has saved her life. Absolutely nothing. Screaming her lungs out in protest wouldn¡¯t help anyone. Enough screaming echoed from the background anyway. Her hands went to the sides of her mouth and she yelled to the stage where Azoria lounged on her throne of skulls while eating what looked like grapes from a wooden bowl. ¡°If my friend dies, it¡¯ll be on you! Even if you don¡¯t care, I¡¯m holding you responsible!¡± Azoria glanced over toward the misfit party. A doppelganger in a white nurse¡¯s outfit including a tight jacket, a cap with a red cross, and a white mini skirt zapped into existence. She stood over the stricken doctor with arms akimbo. A gentle kick rolled Ebony''s back. Then a three-inch heel pushed into the woman¡¯s shoulder as the demon lord leaned over her to address Circe directly. An elbow rested on an upraised knee as a smirk formed across her lips. ¡°It¡¯s just some mild sleep deprivation. She¡¯ll be able to get over it once I finish making the award announcements. Yes, it¡¯s technically a form of torture. Mild torture really, especially compared to what you¡¯re going to be experiencing. But since you''re in such a hurry.¡± Azoria clicked her long red nails as Circe felt a shudder go through her system. The roaches scattered from the splint as Alfredo took a fighting stance. The doppelganger in the nurse outfit clapped as Azoria on the stage stood up. The tour guide Azorias standing at the exits joined with emphatic clapping. Mark turned around and lead his team in clapping. Most of the people clapped. Circe blinked and tilted her head at the stage as Azoria leaned over the podium. The clapping stopped once her voice boomed through the cave. ¡°And now, for you poor unfortunate souls who refused the chance to kneel before me, it¡¯s time for you to receive the mercies that will prevent your immediate execution.¡± The cave hushed as Azoria leaned over the podium for a long pause to survey the audience. ¡°I¡¯m being benevolent and merciful, so you can clap again.¡± Almost everyone clapped, and continued to do so. Continuous clapping filled the cavern as Circe looked around, kept her hands on her knees, and blinked. 32. Heart of Stone Never came a day in which affection reigned. At times I writhed and times I feigned, Yet perfection feared the most. The engine roared as treaded wheels smacked the dirt. White glistening hair with a rainbow glimmer weaved while flying like a flag in the wind. The thin air smacked her lungs as she forged a dirt path between the trees. Smoke blew from the exhaust into the thin mountain air. Antelope darted between the fir and spruce trees. A brown hare jumped out of the way. The roar of the bike echoed through the peaceful mountains. A cascade of snow poured from the distant cliffs in response. A clearing appeared in the forest where beetles rolled piles of dung amidst the chewed grasses. Streaks of purple laurel and lavender graced the small field under a sky flowing with long clouds. Azoria idled the bike before killing the engine. She hopped off the seat. A green and yellow body suit covered in Wonda logos protected her ivory skin. It attached to white boots covered in dried mountain dust. Her tail pushed out of a small hole in the back of the tight leather. The bike rested against a tree. A map spread across the seat. It had been marked with pen and highlighters. Azoria poked it, nodded, then scanned the clearing until she noticed the clump of milky quartz hidden by an overgrowth of dry grasses. Her boot pushed the clump aside to reveal a large square block of clear crystalline quartz cut precisely into a nine-centimeter cube. As her hand reached for the cube the pale skin colored. Wrinkles appeared amongst the perfect smoothness. Long black nails lost their color while retracting back to something short, pink, neatly trimmed. Azoria hissed at the crystal before dropping it. A black leather pouch coated in grease went over top the cube, which she tilted so it would fall inside before she clasped the leather strings tightly shut. All the while, her right hand remained altered as she walked a jagged and crooked path. Stones crunched under her boot as she rubbed her temple with her free hand. Her unsteady step made her fear rolling her ankle as she felt an insufferable numbness tingling in her toes. The path went upwards, higher until the trees became stubbier and sparser. Her legs felt numb, hair hung limply about the leather bike outfit, and her tail scratched the path behind her. After a few kilometers of climbing, the path began to drop into a narrow valley between two cliffs. More mountain laurel surrounding a crystalline teal lake greeted her glowing eyes as Azoria gulped the ever so slightly thicker air. The path became more serene and smoother. Makeshift steps graced the changes in elevation as it rounded the lake. Violets, laurels, and lavenders waved to greet her as a cool wind brushed through the narrow valley. Against a cliffside that opened into a cave, there was a circle of milky quartz surrounding an ash pile. Woven mats of various brilliantly faded colors surrounded the fire pit. Freshly planted turnips and carrots sprouted in a small field as crickets chirped amidst the stones. A bucket filled with potatoes sat near the entrance of the cave. A few mountain goats bleated as they fed upon grasses. Berry bushes grew along the cliff side. She placed the bag next to the potatoes. The ever so harmonious aura smacked into her like a hurricane wind as she resisted heaving. This place no longer welcomed her presence. She coughed to announce herself but received no response, so she continued rounding the lake until she reached a cool bubbling stream which she followed to a waterfall. Cold mountain water poured forth from cracks in the cliff onto the mottled gray and white hair of a withered head. Her master sat under the waterfall with his legs crossed, his hands in his lap, as he meditated on a bed of rounded stones. A hand waved to catch his attention but he remained like a statue. He was stiffer than he should have been. The slightest hint of flaring nostrils accompanied a wrinkling of his closed eyelids. His wrinkled skin hung upon his shoulders like a withered cloak and his arms were translucent. An unkempt white beard covered his neck and matted against his collar bone. Yet underneath that skin were tough wiry muscles that could have belonged to the gods. As he sat cross-legged, the thick callouses of his feet resembled the pads of large animals. Fingers tensed with a white knuckled strength. Azoria dared not approach that waterfall. A gruff growl accompanied the splashing of pouring water. ¡°You¡¯ve returned. Is your purpose still the same?¡± ¡°Master, I need your help.¡± ¡°You continue to seek the elimination of suffering?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not ashamed of what I seek.¡± ¡°Heed my final teaching. Suffering and bliss. Pleasure and pain. Love and hate. These are the price of existence. They are not simply intertwined, they do not merely contain the seeds of each other, they are not merely merged in a spectrum. You continue to seek answers without understanding. You strive for meaning from nothingness. You acquire knowledge endlessly only to stray ever further from the middle path. You¡¯ve aligned yourself with demonic entities beckoning from the extremes. There is nothing that can be done for you. Seek your vain goal elsewhere and begone from this place before the energies are befouled with your aura.¡± Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Master Kunchen! I summoned Mogg.¡± ¡°Then your torment is properly earned. I hope your spirit escapes in the eons to come and achieves rest.¡± Azoria¡¯s toe splashed the bubbling brook. An inky rainbow glow slicked the surface of the water. Azoria shifted in protest as her body shrunk. Her horns turned brown and began to split. They separated before collapsing into hair. Brown spread across white as the change in color spread. A black serpent fell from her backside and slithered away to hide under a rock. The tone of her skin brightened to a soft pink as the red of her eyes dulled to match her hair. And she became ever smaller, the leather biking suit becoming crumpled and ill fitting over her waist as she lost a foot in height. She pulled it down to adjust the top over her hips. It pressed against an even larger bust on a smaller and slender frame. The aesthete broke a long meditation to stand and watch this change complete before weary eyes. Water poured over his shoulders as they stared at one another. His eyes softened. ¡°Delvia, I don¡¯t have long. Why not let me pass in peace? Must I teach you without words?¡± She beckoned to him as she slowly backed away from the crystal lake. Calloused feet smacked against rocky soil as he ran to scoop her up in his wiry arms. A cute sound escaped as she found herself off her feet and carried past the charred fire pit into the cave. A collection of colorful woven mats in front of a small alter offered a comfortable place to reside. A rabbit lifted its ears as soft cries of pain melding with pleasure soon echoed from the entrance. Hate became love and love became hate as suffering and bliss revealed themselves to be the same entity. Then came rest. Quiet. Renewal. And they began again. For seven nights it thundered over the mountains. Waters bubbled over the rocks as they gushed from the crevices. Nobody meditated underneath the flow. ----- The fire outside burned as Delvia cooked a vegetable stew in a small steel pot. The hempen rope tying her short robes hung to her slender knees as she hummed happily to herself. When the stew finished cooking, she returned inside the cave. Bare feet shuffled the straw as she looked for her master. He blended into the surroundings where he sat on a blue mat as if a statue of a sitting old man. His breathing could not be registered by even her senses. Kunchen¡¯s eyes looked dark and hollow as he pushed his fingers together. ¡°I made some stew.¡± His breath returned with an ever so slight frustration. ¡°Is there not something you came here to do? Let''s stop pretending to be something you were. Get on with it, Azoria.¡± The pot of stew dropped on the misty stone floor. It clattered slightly yet landed flat on its bottom surface without spilling. Steam still rose from the stew as some splashed on her ankle. Her brown eyes quivered and became moist as she looked at the husk of the sage. Lips parted slightly with a tethered breath. Wrists pushed against her chest as her fingers clenched into tight fists. ¡°Master, I-¡± ¡°Get on with it demon!¡± Sharpened claws pushed into her skin to draw blood. Azoria hissed as her hair turned white in a flash of lightning. Horns broke the skin as her form stretched taller, more graceful, less plain. The black snake entered the cave, thicker, as if it had eaten well over the past week. The bag from outside had been latched to the spaded tail. It slithered up her ankle, tightly wound around her knee as her skin shifted into a pale ivory shade. It wound into her robes and bit her before merging with her flesh once again. Eyes flashed a brilliant red as her thin elegant lips pushed together with a spiteful tightness. The spaded end of her tail lifted the bag to her left hand and she clutched it tightly. Azoria approached the dying sage. His back leaned against the wall as he sat like a statue. At first, she ran her fingers gingerly over a gnarled and sculpted chest covered by mottled skin loose as rags. Kunchen leaned ever so slightly against her unsteady hand. Gasping followed by the coughing of blood signaled the first claw piercing the top of his sternum. Azoria turned her fingers to pierce him again and again around the bone that seated his rib cage. Finally, with a single twist, a hole found itself sliced into his chest cavity. The sternum became a cap. Once opened, blood rushed from the wound, down his defined abdomen. It stained the colorful blue mat as Azoria tossed it aside. The fleshy sternum smacked the cave with sharp clack and a spark. A revealed heart struggled fiercely to continue beating. Kunchen rested his hands on his knees without so much as flinching. Shlick, pop. Azoria pulled his heart out. The wet pulsing pumps continued in her palm as she squeezed it between her blood-soaked fingers. With her other hand, she retrieved the cubed crystal and shoved it inside the hole while Kunchen still drew breath. Lungs pushed themselves aside to make more room. Blood circulated through small tunnels in the translucent square crystal as it floated in the center of his chest cavity. The hand clutching the organ rose above her head. Blood trickled down her wrist. Her head listed, then sunk forward as hair fell around her lap. Eyes quivered at the floor between her legs. Feet pushed against thighs as her posture sunk. Tears fell upon her lap. A barely audible whisper escaped tense lips. "Play my game." Meditation continued for a minute. His eyes remained open. Hands clutched his knees in a tense posture. Resolved. The crystal sunk as it lost power. Purposeful breathing ceased as his eyes closed. An agonized high-pitched scream echoed through the peaks. Snow cascaded toward the valley to follow continuing cries. The heart tucked between her stained fingers gave one last beat. Thick red liquid sputtered from the tubes to slather her arm. It seeped into the small wounds where she had pierced herself. Yet, while he leaned against my sway, For all the logic in the world, For all the love that had unfurled, His heart within my fingers curled, He might as well have not been there, but four trillion miles away. 33. The Half Moon Brand The centerpiece at the top of the throne gave a soft cackle as Azoria lounged. She plopped a grape into her mouth as she sensed the darkness manifest behind it. A large man with the head of bull stepped out to the right. His pin stripe suit perfectly tapered to his broad chested frame as he towered above the throne. Black shoes shone like polished diamond dust. He held glossy hooves behind his back. A snort poured meaty smoke from a septum pierced by a thick ring that looked like sand blasted wrought iron. Azoria plopped a grape into her mouth, ¡°That¡¯s a rather serious look for you.¡± The bull snorted again. A puff of purple and gray smoke floated upward before forming into ropes of smoke that dove to grab Azoria and sit her straight. ¡°I am the ruler of chaos, not its slave. I can shed it when it serves my purpose. Does that scare you? Did you think your one advantage was that I could only dwell in my chaos? You¡¯re going to regret such hubris. When it comes time to extend your mercy to the idiots. Give the one of alteration three half-moons.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t!¡± A power grabbed Azoria and sat her down forcefully, ¡°Give her four.¡± ¡°Are you mad? That¡¯s not fair. No one can survive that many!¡± ¡°Give her five.¡± ¡°Why are you doing this!? It¡¯s not like you!¡± ¡°You wished for this world. You wanted order. You wanted law. You wanted numbers. I granted your wish. However, your will wavers. I want to see it break. I want to savor your disintegration in my shifting hell.¡± Azoria turned pale and sweaty, she could barely breathe as she looked at her lap. Her eyes emptied of will as smoke pushed tightly against her ears. ¡°I¡¯ll give her six.¡± The bull smacked her over the head. Her neck snapped as her chin smacked her collar bone, then snapped again as it pushed back into place. Mogdell rubbed her hair with a large hoof. The sharp edge sliced deeply into her scalp and reddened her white hair. ¡°What do you know, they learn!¡± Mogdell vanished from the cave. The giant skull that capped her throne cackled again as Azoria stood. All the other skulls composing the seat jittered and laughed as she took her place in front of the abused podium. A bronze gavel materialized in her right hand. She slammed it down over the center. A gong rang across the cave, then reverberated into an ear-splitting screech as wood splinters shot across the stage. People covered their ears, only a hooded figure endure the sound without flinching. Circe pushed her fingers in her ears as she squinted. Azoria smiled gently as the ringing subsided, ¡°First, for those among you that have openly chosen opposition. I bequeath unto you, my collar.¡± Alfredo fell to his knees and clutched his neck. It felt like piano wire squeezed tightly around his neck. Like his head would pop off. Fingernails dug into his flesh as he choked. Blood stained the underside of his finger nails. There was nothing there but his own flesh, and he even felt air going through his lungs normally. Circe pulled herself up on all fours and crawled over. She reached out her hand to caress his arm as fast shallow breaths rang through his closed teeth. He saw the moisture flowing down her red face and tried to calm himself, to stop his nails from biting his neck. He pushed his feet into the ground and gasped, only to feel like he took too much air. There was no lightheadedness or loss of consciousness. Circe turned to see Ebony on her back, choking and gagging as she clutched. A tattoo in the shape of intertwining razor wires weaved around their necks. The sense of constriction eased, then passed, leaving its victims on the ground. Alfredo went to his hands and knees as Ebony became limp, laid on her back, and stared at the ceiling like a comatose patient. Circe tried to comfort her doctor and found her skin as cold and clammy as a corpse. The woman began to shiver. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Nurse Azoria leaned over the doctor, ¡°Well Paladin, considering your curse, I suppose your body will lose the ability to regulate temperature if we keep you awake much longer. Now that you have received your mercy, I release you from my attention.¡± Ebony immediately fell into the soundest of sleeps. Nothing weaker than Azoria¡¯s abilities would be waking her for the next twelve hours. The bronze gavel slammed the podium a second time. The wooden structure buckled as it splintered outward about the middle. It developed a leeward lean and looked ready to fail. The disconcerting ring of a loud gong had people holding their ears all the way to the back of the cave as the reverberating echo became an obnoxious high pitch screech. ¡°And now, I will bestow my final and most merciful of mercies upon those who neglected to make a decision.¡± Skulls tilted so that their foramen magnums faced the ceiling. The sound of cackling whispered from the stage. The throne of skulls went alight with intense purple flame. Chain shaped rods rose slowly from the arms and the seat. Sharp spear-like points threatened from one end as the bottoms simmered in purple-black flame that crackled. Cackled. Azoria clutched the iron and pulled from the throne, then rested it over her shoulder so that the flat end faced upward. ¡°You will receive the mark of the half-moon.¡± She thrust the business end of the branding iron forward toward the audience. The elevated half moon glowed a freakish neon violet as an aura of tendrils poured forth. It resembled a half-lidded eye that squinted as it nearly closed in disdain. At times the quivering tendrils resembled lashes. More copies appeared throughout the cave in the nurse¡¯s uniform. Megan¡¯s clutch against the clothes of her partner broke as a nurse Azoria pulled her. The baseball player dropped his bat as a nurse Azoria grabbed his shoulder from behind while pulling back his arms with her tail. Another nurse readied the branding iron in front of him. The ghostly complected woman with the frayed pink dress found her feet bound to the floor by tendrils as a nurse ran clawed fingers through her long black hair. Screaming renewed throughout the cave. A hooded figure faced its nurse. It reached a withered hand over its head to pull down the covering to reveal a withered face with mottled white and gray hair and an unkempt gray beard. The demon lord pointed her branding iron at his forehead after swinging it. ¡°You¡¯re not ending suffering; you¡¯re wallowing in it.¡± Her eyes widened, glowing slightly, and she laughed, ¡°Wallowing! Wallowing!? Embrace what you can¡¯t control, right!? Look at me. Look at how powerful I¡¯ve become. Time. Space. Rules. Conventions. Laws. Nothing can stop me! I¡¯m amazing! I¡¯m wonderful! I¡¯m God! I¡¯ve broken the mold you made for me. I¡¯ve transcended! I defeated the system. I killed God. Look at me!¡± she stopped laughing and took a deep breath, ¡°Or don¡¯t look, but the more you resist the weaker you¡¯ll get. Just accept this mercy like a good little hermit.¡± Kunchen emptied his mind and refilled it from his own spiritual well as he braced himself. The brand went against his forehead. Flesh bubbled and cracked as the half moon mark burned into his skin. His eyes rolled up until only the whites were visible. Lips twisted into a pained grimace as the tendrils spread over his flesh and ate into his aura. Shrill screams bounced off Kunchen¡¯s meditation as Megan rolled on the granite floor nearby. Burning steam rose from her forehead with the scent of grilled skin. Darrone jumped to get a hold of her shoulder but a foot loosely clad with a stocking kicked him under the chin so forcefully it knocked his teeth together. The tendrils spread from Megan¡¯s forehead, down her neck and over her left arm as she clawed at the granite and screamed. Her partner could only watch as she kicked. The baseball player arched his back while pressing his palms against his forehead. Tears ran down his face as he kicked his legs. Teeth gnashed together and ground themselves down as the tendrils ate into his aura while spreading down over his neck. He reached toward the ceiling to grab at nothing with his right hand while his left pounded the granite so hard that it popped and cracked. ¡°I want my mommy! I want my mommy!¡± he screamed, and he continued screaming exactly those words over and over again. He urinated, vomited, and defecated at once. Mucus bubbled as it poured from his flared nostrils while he repeated himself in voice shattering screams. His personal Azoria pierced him on the shoulder with the sharp end of the branding iron. Blood issued from the wound to further stain his uniform. ¡°Oh, look at the talented bug. You¡¯re leaking all the fluids,¡± Azoria laughed over him as he continued to strain, to scream, to thrash, ¡°But you and I both know it¡¯s merely instinct. Insects don¡¯t reeeally suffer," her mirth became serious, "So you should probably grow up.¡± The light of the cave shifted so that the being standing over Circe cast a substantial shadow. The branding iron rested across the back of her shoulders as her fingers gripped the bar at both ends to hold it lengthwise behind her neck. Circe slowly looked upward from shadow to see an expressionless Azoria staring back. Alfredo charged, only to be thrust upward by the force of a strong uppercut, and then fell with his body limp and sprawled out. The branding iron raised, then twirled into the pale palm. Sharp black nails clicked against the chain pattern. Azoria¡¯s eyes continued to stare, yet began to shift rapidly as they scanned her prey. A burning sizzle smoked the air from the glowing half-moon. Circe gasped, froze, found herself unable to stop the flow of her tears as she watched those pitiless lips twist upwards into a large toothy grin. Azoria laughed as the continuing screams whispered around them. ¡°I saved the best for last.¡± 34. The Scream The brand pressed into Circe¡¯s forehead. The smoking neon half-moon burnt skin as the odor of flaming flesh rose. When it pulled away, gluey skin extended with it. Tendrils spread over her forehead and into her scalp. Sharp filet knives metaphorically peeled the top layers of her skin away. Nerves throbbed unharmed. The mark burned. The tendrils removed the sense of having skin. Her body felt like one big open wound. Any touch, the slightest movement of air, a breath against her, registered as searing pain that beckoned her to scream. Azoria pushed Circe down with her foot. Flesh stuck to the brand pulled and then ripped. Tendrils pushed from the granite to wrap her ankles. They lovingly embraced the splint and kept her leg together, then reached for her wrists to pull her flat on her back. Arms pulled outward so that her palms pressed against the floor like suction cups. The back of her hands remained intentionally exposed. A tendril pulled over her belt line to keep her snugly against the floor. Circe wanted to scream. Teeth Clenched as Circe struggled. Eyes watered. Back tensed. A brand hissed. It slammed down upon the back of her right hand, lifted with a crackling pop of pulled burning skin. It swung over to the left and slammed upon smooth fresh flesh. Circe arched, gurgled and spit in response. But she would not make a single solitary sound from her throat. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she refused to give Azoria the satisfaction of hearing her scream. The calls of a man crying for his mother repeatedly made her wish she could run into the arm of her mother. The memory of learning to ride a bike filled her with hope. She¡¯d fallen over and over again. Her skin had been torn open in a pain less intense, but eerily similar to this. Her father stayed by her side for as long as she¡¯d been determined to learn. It had taken her forever. A pain she had endured silently without a single scream. A paring knife peeled her skin open like skinned fruit as the tendrils shot up each arm and writhed under her clothes. Yet no physical injury existed. Nerves raged with no shock or unconscious to save her. No sweet embrace of death came to her rescue. Circe drew blood from her lower lip with her bite. Iron flowed against her tongue. But she would not scream. A shoe slipped off her right foot. Circe¡¯s eyes remained clamped shut as she felt it slide over her as of yet unafflicted flesh. She wished she had something to bite other than her lip. And then it hit her. What if there was no respite? What if for all eternity she¡¯d never again feel the blissful protection of having skin? Why had she never appreciated her skin more? Wherever the lashes of her brands passed, her skin sheared off as far as her nerve endings were concerned. She wanted to scream. The other shoe slipped off her left foot as the first shoe dropped next to her face. Circe hyperventilated as Azoria pulled her socks upward. They slid over her thin calves, pushed past her heel, and then completely to expose small rounded toes above the bump of her sole. Fingers pressed against the well-defined arch, then rubbed in a circle. Circe squirmed against the tickling sensation but couldn¡¯t move away from it. A hand pushed against her bared toes to curl them back and straighten her feet. Azoria waited a moment but heard no protest scream. The brand slid over granite before it pressed against the mid arch of the right foot. Pain caused the body to further tense. The back popped as she pushed against the restraints. It felt like her leg was being sliced laterally by a saw. How was she not dead yet? Slowly, Circe forced her eyes open and craned her neck to peer down over her body. Aside from the tattoo tendrils licking and flaying her flesh like flames, there was no blood, no sign of any physical injury. Her skin hadn¡¯t been peeled off, it was under writhing shadows with beads of purple neon light. Circe opened her mouth and felt the bile rise against her tongue. Swallowing it prevented her scream. The back of her head slammed into the granite as the brand assaulted the mid-arch of her right foot. A new eye opened with a half-lidded stare as tendrils slid over the sole and up the ankle until her calves and then her knees were covered. Azoria stood. The sharp end of the brand cut from the center of the collarbone to the convergence of the rib cage. The shirt sliced open and the bra separated to reveal the flesh over the heart. A small amount of blood seeped from a shallow scratch. As the brand threatened, Circe stared angrily with her mouth clamped shut. She refused to scream. One last brand converged all the others upon Circe¡¯s heart. Teeth clamped shut as her eyelids forced themselves together. Tears bubbled from her nose. Mucus ran from her eyes. Her face contorted into wrinkles. Limbs pulled against her restraints. Circe dared not scream. The television crackled with red and black static. The screen shifted red. ALERT! ALERT! Circe looked about the broken room as flames licked upon the walls. Her flesh singed. Cracked windows exploded. Shards of broken glass flew against the wall as the television smoked with an electric hiss. Roaches screeched and popped as they failed to find cover. Circe sat on the carpet of her broken, burning room, shivering in pain, yet she wouldn¡¯t scream. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Her heart thumped fast as slithering coils encased it. From six brands the hateful tendrils slithered forth in the form of shadows. Wherever they touched nerves screamed. With six marks, her entire body became encased in shadow at all times. A dark aura complimented by violet embers rose as the dissolution of her spirit merged with the burning shade. Lips and teeth clamped shut even as the body tensed. Silence screamed. Roaches scattered as shadowy tendrils caressed the splint. Pain radiated from her. It became her only thought, her only being. It absorbed every emotion like a voracious eating monster. The echoes from the cave dissipated because static popped in her ears. Tendrils slid into her mouth and drilled her teeth. Nerves activated. Eyes rolled unnaturally to the sides. Every nerve in her body expanded with a violent scream. Azoria looked upon her victim. The aura of pain that rained upon her resembled a crushing static rain. In all of her awakenings to this world, none of the insects she pulled had ever received more than two marks, and those that had been granted two inevitably died. But Circe hadn¡¯t soiled herself, she had swallowed her bile, and she didn¡¯t even scream. Azoria, finished with her work, lifted the branding iron over her left shoulder, and huffed in exasperation, ¡°What kind of joke is this? What even are you?¡± Mogg-dell would appear soon, Azoria thought, he would have an answer. This didn¡¯t make sense. The whole point of his request was to kill her. Hadn¡¯t all of this been meant to kill her? So why wasn¡¯t she dead? She wasn¡¯t even dying. When would she offer her final scream? Eyelids opened with the pop of something that had been closed so tightly it became glued together. Pupils darted back to the center to focus on Azoria in the midst of hazy purples, greens, and blues crowding her burning vision. Behind the Demon Lord stood a giant bull with neon purple half-moon eyes and a wide smile across its snout filled with fat glistening teeth. In the center of the gaping maw, it clamped a fresh yet lifeless human heart. It bit down, gnashing the organ with a squish. Kunchen screamed. Circe could see all of it. Azoria¡¯s glowing dead fish stare. The glaring bull with blood dripping down its maw. A spaded tail wrapping an exposed leg. The glowing tendrils extending from the brand that had struck six times. Pain beyond words flooded her eyes until she cried blood. The jaw she clenched snapped and ground. Eyes hatefully screamed. [Glitch Detected: Infinite Spiritual Resistance] ¡°So you¡¯re an impurity. Is that why Mogg-dell is afraid?¡± Azoria turned the brand and pointed the face towards the giant bull, ¡°What exactly are you trying to achieve with my contestant?¡± Circe screamed. ¡°I¡¯M! GOING! TO! KILL YOU!¡± The words echoed through the cave. All other sounds of pain drowned. KILL YOU! Kill You! Kill you! Kill you. Kill you. Kill you. And then silence. Everything stilled except for Circe. Her body rose as tendrils absorbed into her aura of pain. They popped around her as they continued to caress. Feet hovered as Circe arose. Short hair flowed even while damp with sweat. The shadows continued to embrace her body. Every cell of her existence flooded with endless pain. Screamed. An unrestrained animalistic roar broke forth as her broken body shot forward. Azoria shattered like a statue of glass without warning. Mogg-dell glared. She hit him head first. Circe vanished before the spectating cave through the violet mist of a floating dungeon portal. It closed instantly afterward. [Glitch Patching: Infinite Spiritual Resistance Nullification] Circe shot out of the portal to slam face first through the high end of a fecal stalagmite. Then another, and another as her body shot forward propelled by uncontrolled pain. Fecal clay exploded and crumbled as the formations broke. Finally, her body lost momentum and rolled, dropped, then skidded across a shallow pool of toxic refuse. The petite body of the battered woman disappeared under the slowly churning gunk. She suddenly rose, but her lunch fell into the gunk with a churning... Gloooruuuufff. Too much pain coursed through her body to care about the smell. Circe crawled on her hands and knees. Blood ran down her face. Her nose had been smashed from the impacts. With what little energy she had left, she struggled to hug a more solid mound of fecal material. Bubbles burst around her as she coughed. Her left front tooth dropped and she spit it out. She squinted as she looked around the vast caverns. Were those bookshelves? Had this place been a library once? [Spiritual Resistance: 999] The half moon marks sensed that her glitch had been patched and bit down upon every nerve of her body. Arms tensed, biceps strained as she positioned herself on the mound so she wouldn¡¯t slide down and drown in fecal muck. Every form of pain imaginable encroached upon her battered body courtesy of the half-moon marks. The intensity raised and fell if only to better maximize her suffering. She put together one last coherent thought before her mind became consumed with mitigating the work of the shadowy tendrils. Perhaps kicking the bull thing out of her head had not been the right move after all. Then pain encroached. All became pain. Stinging, burning, biting, cuting, slicing, abrading, drilling, clamping, tearing, pain. 35. We Suffer Alone There''s not much to work with, is there? Glowing mushroom sparsely sprinkled about the caverns on some of the more solid fecal mounds provided the dimmest of yellow light. Bubbles expanded, then popped with a hiss of foul gas. Darkness reigned beyond the short range of the fungal outcroppings. Something groaned. Teeth gnashed. A thud followed a splash. Nrummph. Nruuumph. Nuruuumph. Nruumph. A patch of mushrooms barely illuminated the beast. The translucent cylinders waving above its back resembled snakes without heads or eyes. Rounded lipless mouths with sharp teeth thrashed about. Ching! Cling! Cling! Ching! CLACK! And again, and again, like broken cymbals. Legs splooshed into the soft runny muck with a slow bass boom. The giant arthropod stood about the size a giraffe considering the length of its eight lanky legs. A leg lifting over the glowing mushroom revealed white chitinous teeth with a glistening coating. The dexterous neck waved above the mushroom and lunged down upon it. Teeth pulled the glowing fungi out of the crumbling mound. Brown sludge splashed across Circe¡¯s cheek. It ran between her bloody battered lips as she laid on the mound. Wide open eyes refused to shut. Roaches formed a seal over her gaping mouth. Though some crawled in and others out. The monster standing over her could easily crush her frail body if it lost its footing in the muck, yet Circe remained still. The translucent white neck dipped into the fecal sludge with such a voracious sucking that the throat turned a dull brown. Brown slushy liquid colored the center of the massive chitinous underside. Circe gripped the dirt pile with her fingernails and arched her back. A small spurt of blood shot from both her eyes. Then she sunk, limp. A set of gnashing, swinging teeth swayed from the many extensions growing on the back of the giant mite. It snaked around the head of the beast to the right, another joined to the left, and yet another over the center. Three maws swooped down in front of Circe¡¯s face. They waved in front of blank eyes that stared through them into the darkness. Then they plunged. Into the muck! They sucked a meal of death and partial digestion around the mound where Circe rested. Glooorp! Gluuuuurp! Shlooooorp! Shlooooomp! Fecal sludge constantly sucked and pumped into the fat rounded body. Satisfied, the toothy tubes lifted and dripped muck over Circe¡¯s neck. Roaches crawled over her face, pushed aside filth, and cleaned bruised skin with their antennae. Pieces of crap slapped back into the shallow swamp as the tube-like protrusions raised themselves and retracted. They wave around with the numerous others on the beast¡¯s back. Teeth continued gnashing. Legs stretched to raise the body further. The small head of the beast had a few fangs but no teeth. This small maw set itself under two small clusters of beady black eyes. It released a high-pitched call that sounded like the singing of a long-suffering spirit, ¡°Moooooooooooore!¡± With a creaking slosh of its chitinous body the beast stomped away. Its back end splooshed Circe with the excess water it had accumulated. Her eyes closed. She squinted. Circe sat up and gurgled as roaches crawled in and out of her mouth. They licked the blood running from her gums at the large gap in her teeth. It''s time to start your lesson. With a harsh snort, bloody mucus shot from her smashed nose to splatter against her shorts. Circe sat limply as some pink and blue roaches crawled up from her legs. A big brown one crawled from the back of her neck. It entered her nose, then crawled down her sinus and came out her mouth. Breathing came slightly easier. Embrace hate. The pain hadn¡¯t stopped. It overwhelmed her entire existence. It made every other struggle in her life feel like a paradise. But she refused to die. The mark over her split shirt glowed a brilliant dark violet. It provided a dark light as the tendrils pushed down against her heart. Every beat came at a painful price. But she refused to die. The answer is always hate. Arms hung at her side as she sat limply with her mouth open. Her head shifted upward. Eyes refused to blink as only darkness hovered above the soft light of the half moon mark burning her forehead. The tendrils ate into her brain. Every thought came at a price. Roaches crawled over her unblinking eyes and spit. Pure unadulterated hate. Her heart thumped in her chest and radiated pain through every corner of her body. And then, as if to mock her, the pain retreated ever so slightly. Circe listed, her head going back and forth as her mouth hung open. Her left knee bent. A bare foot pressed into the mound. The half moon mark pressed into the barely solid soil. The pain came back twice as intensely in her leg. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Who do you hate? It wasn¡¯t her own thought. She didn¡¯t have her own thought. Only survival instinct. Only hate. Only sheer will to push forward. Do something! Do something or die. The splinted leg pushed into the mound. The pain of the break sung with the pain of the tendrils in a discordant symphony. It felt like her head was going to pop like a microwaved watermelon, but she had to do better. She thought of Ebony, she thought of Alfredo. Do better. A new pain made her chest heave. This pain formed tears under her red heated eyes. Somewhere in her mind, a little girl had fallen off her bike again. Her mother wasn¡¯t there to kiss her. Her father never came to hug her. Why wouldn¡¯t they come anymore!? They won¡¯t save you. The figure on the mound stood like a scarecrow in the wind. Most of her weight remained on her good leg. The roaches held the splint together as her toes sunk and sloshed in the muck. One of the critters crawling up her leg turned bright red. A purple half-moon eye printed on its back. But you can HATE them.
Skill Description
Alteration Novice 10 Can change coloration of another subject¡¯s body as desired once daily. Must make physical contact with target for thirty seconds to take effect. The change will register over a period of fifty minutes or longer depending on mana consumed and severity of the change.
Hate Azoria. A scratched and burnt looking foot lifted. Muck dripping from between the toes. The half-lidded eye of the moon glared at the terrain below before it pushed into ankle deep sludge. Arms hung at her sides. Mouth hung open. Bleary eyes stared into the darkness as soiled blood dripped down her hanging jaw. Her body pushed forward as if on automatic. Shoulder brushed a splintery bookshelf and bled. Her wrist hit the hilt of a sword sticking out of the swamp. Fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt and her shoulder gave a pop. The rusty metal wouldn¡¯t budge from the sludge. ¡°HAAA!¡± Circe gave one painful laugh as she cried and bled. A sword stuck in some mud proved too much for her! She couldn¡¯t even pull it out. Tendrils surged from the back of her right hand. Circe screeched. No echo returned because sound became quickly muffled by the shifting, stinking, muck of the mid caverns. The slithering shadows wrapped around the hilt of the rusty long sword. Her palm pushed against it. With a pop of her elbow, Circe pulled the heavy chunk of rusted iron up. She raised it above her head with a pained scream. Kill The Demon Lord. A clump of fecal sludge fell from the blade into her hair. Her arm cracked, wobbled, shook. The sword went down with a swoosh back into the muck. Notice: Insufficient strength. Carry weight limitations exceeded. ¡°HAAA!¡± Circe wheezed as bloody snot bubbled from her broken face. The caverns shook. Something big approached. Circe continued walking anyway. Her unblinking eyes caught the faint glow of more mushrooms. Roaches clung to her body, they crawled in and out of her torn clothing. Jagged rocks pushed into her bare feet and sent fresh pain pulsing up her legs. The left shoulder listed, arms swung limply, then the right shoulder listed. Her back slumped as she pushed forward, for what? Kill the Brutalizer. Something huge stomped past her but she couldn¡¯t see it. She could hear a churning of sludge and a slapping stomp that shook the cavern. Reverberations slammed through her body as something landed just behind her. Circe didn¡¯t react. The left shoulder listed. Left foot pushed out of the muck. Fecal soaked roach infested splint pushed out. Right shoulder listed. Mouth hung open. Eyes drooped. Nose bubbled. Blood congealed on a bruised chin. Darkness obscured her vision. Kill Azoria. The thudding, reverberating, steps passed and hit less powerfully as they moved away. Her forehead smacked into a rotting board. A creak followed a crack as a shelf splashed backwards into the muck. The marks glowed with a passionate hate that cradled her, enveloped her. Notice: Sanity approaching critical levels. Seek comfort. ¡°HAAA!¡± Fists clenched at her sides. The glow poured through her enclosed fingers. Her eyelids pushed down into a tight squint and the pale purple moonlight burst forth from them before they even opened. The plain yet soft brown eyes of a young woman wrenched into erratic purple squiggles. Her head listed as the violet glow licked and lapped like a flame from her hair. A loud thump issued from her chest as the central mark brightened intensely. Her neck tilted her head so that her ear rubbed against her left shoulder. Her open mouth began to glow in a horrid frown. Kill them all! Alert: Sanity at critical levels. Seek comfort immediately! Circe laughed, ¡°HAAAA! HAHAHAH! HAHAHAHAHA! AHHHHHHH! HAAAAAAA!¡± Circe twitched with a dark grin as she pulled at her cheeks, ¡°Kikilkikillillikilkill? KILL SHLEM ALL!?¡± She slapped her face hard with both hands. The glowing marks on their backs lit the dark caverns as her veins pulsed violently. Insane dripping continued. The stink assaulted her one open nostril. She hated it. A hand jumped at her hair, grabbed it, and pulled a hunk out by the roots. She let go of the soft strands and let them fall like feathers into the shifting swamp. Head twisted, listed, and twitched atop her neck. ¡°Riiight?!¡± 36. Wheres Circe!? The overbright phosphorescence of Azoria¡¯s chamber hurt Alfredo¡¯s eyes. A smokey after image with flecks of violet sparks dissipated. White sneakers with yellow accents laid on their sides. Socks with the slightest bit of frill on the edges laid like dead snake skins. He peered at the sleeping doctor, then at the footwear, then up at the diminishing purple smoke. But there was something else, broken glass. Wait, it moved! The jagged pieces moved together as if by magnetism and reformed into a clump which slowly took a human shape. Strands of glass wire plumed outward. Red eyes burned to melt through the face like coal through ice. Horns pushed upward as the tail coiled behind her. Azoria stretched her limbs as a black dress burned over her contours. Alfredo pressed calloused palms against the floor, then craned his neck back to stare at the gawking crowd before stumbling to his feet. A crop of short Jet-black hair graced his dome as if he dyed it. He faced Azoria. ¡°Where¡¯s Circe?¡± She clutched her shoulder like a wounded animal, hissed at him, and vanished. All the other Azoria doppelgangers disappeared with her. Alfredo slumped as he gave the empty sneakers a slight nudge with his work shoes. Gentle breaths of a woman in deep sleep haunted his ears. The last he¡¯d seen Circe, that demon had a branding iron or some such nonsense and he¡¯d been sucker punched trying to save her from certain torture. What was even going on here? He turned around and saw the officer laughing. The officer laughed. That ground his gears. He couldn¡¯t take it anymore. He approached the others with a bit of a stride. It wasn¡¯t like he had his charge to protect anymore. His face glowed as he stomped over to the officer¡¯s group. His finger went up as he circled his hand in an animated gesture and pointed at them, all of them. ¡°Where tuh heck is Circe!?¡± The officer clutched his gut laughing and gave Banko a pat on the shoulder. ¡°So that¡¯s the wiz kid¡¯s name,¡± he stopped laughing a moment, ¡°Banko, look her up.¡± Teeth grew into fangs as small horns broke skin. Alfredo growled while curling extending black claws that gleamed with an almost crystal sharpness. ¡°I¡¯m not playin¡¯ wit yuh no more. Where¡¯s Circe!?¡± Mark grabbed his baton and stretched his arms out as he walked around Alfredo, ¡°You want to fight demon man. Now, I realize your one shot just got taken from you, but if you think that gives you the excuse to cause us trouble, well, then you have another thing coming.¡± Alfredo held his stance as he eyed the officer. ¡°Everyone saw it,¡± Mark said with his outdoor voice, ¡°Your girlfriend decided to have a big mouth. Have you ever heard the expression: ¡®writing a check with your mouth that your body can¡¯t cash¡¯? That¡¯s what she did. She threatened to kill our queen. Then, she got thrown through air like a little doll and sent packing. Everyone here saw it, did you not?¡± Carson leaned into Nickey and whispered, ¡°I think he¡¯s missing the part where Azoria shattered. You did see that part, or am I just hallucinating? This place is messing with my mind.¡± Nickey exposed her green braces as she bit off a piece of a nutrition block and chewed carefully. She simply nodded very slightly in response. Banko shared his floating information holograph. There were lots of numbers. Lots of red numbers. Lots of very low numbers. Six curses of pain were listed from half-moon marks. Mark began to laugh, almost hysterically. ¡°Are you kidding me. Locked stats. She¡¯s a zero in just about every category. One skill! One skill! And it¡¯s for doing nails and hair! She even gave the old man a dye job!¡± Banko couldn¡¯t help laughing loud, almost snorting as he looked at the screen more carefully, ¡°Look at the injuries. She already broke herself! She broke her face!¡± Fists clenched as smoke bellowed from out Alfredo¡¯s nose. He hadn¡¯t thought to check the whole screen thingy. It wasn¡¯t like he could figure out how to make it appear. That thing took a lot of effort to keep around, at least for him. Just managing to get it appear made his head hurt worse than that jack hammer fastener that went through it. Mark bellowed with mocking laugh, ¡°She can give a person a make over once a day! How cute! What an incredible skill. She¡¯s our dungeon beautician! What do you think Carson, do you think my nails would look good in a shade of fuchsia or should I go with mint?¡± Banko laughed so hard he almost fell over. His laughter joined the screams of those rolling about as they tried to adjust to a single half-moon mark on their forehead. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Laughing continued while Alfredo stood spouting smoke through his nose. They at least showed him that Circe was alive. That¡¯s all that mattered. He would find her and save her because that was his job. He¡¯d save his woman. His friend. Whatever. Slowly he encouraged his oni form to retract. He¡¯d need to save it for a better purpose than teaching these clowns a thing or two. Their continued laughing echoed through the cavern discordantly mixed with the even less pleasant sounds. Mark waved off Alfredo dismissively, ¡°Look buddy, you¡¯re lucky the fat man wants you to have that food. So, here¡¯s the deal. When it comes your time to get out of this place, you can gallivant around like a mystical hero in search of Cinderella. But you and I both know what your really after. If you want to chase it down that badly, hey, it¡¯s your funeral. Just stay out of our way!¡± Fist went down and a shockwave followed. ¡°Take it back,¡± Alfredo shouted, ¡°Take it back or I¡¯m gonna tear your face off?¡± Mark laughed, twirled around, and pointed his baton. He had a large crew backing him up should Alfredo decide to choose violence. He laughed. ¡°You and what army beast gramps? Sleepy over there? Bring it. I dare you. Come on! Right here! Right now! What?! You don¡¯t have the balls, do you? Have they shriveled up that badly?¡± Alfredo took up a combat stance. Before him stood the officer, the suited Asian man, the fast girl, the magic boy, that guy with the shields, several others from multiple directions. The robed old man with the half-moon mark squirming tendrils over his forehead cautiously approached with his eyes closed. Muscles tensed as Alfredo made himself bigger, scarier, but he felt increasingly like a cornered animal. ¡°Where¡¯s Circe!?¡± he cried at the top of his lungs On the stage, where nobody bothered to look, Azoria sat on her throne of skulls. Her arms raised over the back with her wrists nailed together. Blood dripped from the giant nail. Head hung down limply as hair sprawled across her lap. Naked feet pushed up on the heel with toes on toes. A large wrought iron nail kept them in place under the seat. Deep slow breaths raised and lowered her chest as Alfredo cried for Circe. A hoof split apart to clasp her shoulder hard. The face of a bull darted to her left side. It snorted and blew her hair aside. A sweetly enthusiastic childish voice whispered in her ear. ¡°How are you feeling? Are you okay? Wanna play with me. I¡¯m Mogg-dell Beef Ear Pie. I¡¯m your best friend. Let¡¯s play together.¡± ¡°You¡¯re seething,¡± Azoria said, ¡°And you can¡¯t keep me here forever. I will recover so long as this world exists. It¡¯s my world. It belongs to me!¡± ¡°You look good like that though, it¡¯s a nice look for you. The blood highlights the spectral goodness of my haunted lanterns.¡± ¡°Nonsense,¡± Azoria said, ¡°Back to nonsense. Yet I don¡¯t sense your usual enthusiasm. You¡¯re afraid.¡± Skulls shook, jittered, and clattered. Mogg-dell glared at them. They began to bite Azoria. Little chunks of flesh tore from her body, which bled and steamed as she healed. Mogg-dell slithered, contracted, turned white. Its red eyes burned. The form of the giant bull melted and curved. Breasts bounced in a black dress as its long glistening white hair flowed. The horns and tail remained bovine as Azoria twirled before Azoria. A wine glass appeared in Mogg-dell¡¯s hand. ¡°Oh, Ashooooria darling, are you not enjoying the tashtes of chaosh? Are you not ready to merge with my realm?¡± it mocked before pouring the red liquid over her hair, ¡°Look at you, half destroyed by your own chosen weapon. So damaged that you¡¯ll never be able to call another muster. Once this game burns out, it¡¯s over. No resets. No hibernating for 10,000 years. This world will be consumed, burned into my realm. Check.¡± Azoria looked up; eyes glowed red as she leaned back into her throne. The skull clattered and bit flesh off her thighs and shoulders, which steamed as it slowly regenerated. Blood poured over the bones. ¡°She''s an impurity like us. You can''t control her. She still holds a thread. And it¡¯s driving you MAD!¡± Azoria said through clenched teeth, ¡°You can¡¯t absorb her even with six marks. I found her! The one of alteration is your antithesis. And you failed to kill her. You don¡¯t have any more cards. She''ll survive. I win! Check!¡± Mogg-Azoria clamped Azoria¡¯s cheeks hard and stared her eye to eye as their noses pressed together, ¡°Oh, you poor confused child of destruction. Who ever said I need to absorb her?¡± Mogg-Dell Beef Ear Pie disguised as Azoria, but still sporting the horns and tail of a bull instead of Demonian appendages, approached the edge of the stage as Azoria watched from her throne. The audience below could see two Azoria. They could not see anything off about the Azoria standing at the edge of the stage. A groan of protest escaped the one slumped over on the throne, but nobody heard it. Nails held her seated. The standing Azoria stretched her arms out like a holy mother and spoke with a soft-spoken pleading that everyone could hear as it projected into their minds. A slight diminishing of general sanity would go unnoticed. ¡°Honorary Demonians, I have the great sorrow of giving you your first mission. One of your fellows is about to lose her sanity and become a dead berserker. My humble plea is to end her suffering. A few of you already have experience in this matter and have strengthened greatly in my service. The ones who succeed in this mission will become my closest advisors and receive great rewards beyond even my boon.¡± Azoria listed on her throne; face hidden under her hair as she concentrated on breathing. That was the worst possible impression of her she could possibly imagine. Like anyone would fall for that. Mogg-Dell Beef Ear Pie raised its hand and pointed into the air before shouting with a flourish, ¡°Bring her head directly to me as my rightful prize! LET THE HUNT BEGIN!¡± A cheer sounded through the chamber. That was more like her, Azoria thought. Wait, what was it up to now? An eye peered through her hair as Azoria managed to lift her head and see Mogg turn to her with a wholesome smile. ¡°I¡¯ve arranged a little welcoming present for your return home. Checkmate.¡± Circe Oratia Sheffield: Divergent Bookworm: SANITY ZERO! FATALITY! 37. Well Child The scent of roasted pork barbeque overwhelmed the air as detective Nguyen Wen Chien opened the sliding door. The buzz of pouring rain sounded through narrow restaurant bar. Chien shook his soaked umbrella and folded it into the stand before dulling the violence of the rain by sliding the door shut. Big calloused hands pulled a soggy crumpled business card from the pocket of his frayed leather coat. A color picture of a young man in his early thirties was starting to run but his clean-cut hair, nice suit and smooth smile remained unblurred. The real Ngo Phaolo sat hunched over the counter with unfinished pork on his plate and half a bottle of Bia Hanoi still condensing with chill in the smokey humidity. A glazed eye stared into the fire of the stove as the aged server lady continued grilling. Her white hair held tightly tied into a tight bun covered by a net. The agent¡¯s hair hung disheveled as it gleamed with unwashed greasy sweat. Stubble grew unevenly across his chin. Phaolo kept rubbing his fingers through his hair and mumbling something about checking the wiring and the weather forecast being clear. He hadn¡¯t noticed Chien enter and take a seat on the stool beside him, a red Dong note slapped down on the faded counter. ¡°We¡¯ve already determined that Miss Hoa¡¯s death was an accident. You¡¯re in the clear as far as criminal charges. The only thing being investigated is whether there was extreme negligence in your set-up and that¡¯s being conducted through third parties, though I¡¯m not uninvolved.¡± Phaolo grabbed his beer and gulped the rest down, ¡°Another on my friend here. I think there¡¯s more to my client¡¯s death, something that you¡¯re not telling me. But I can¡¯t put my finger on it.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m here. I have my recorder. Note that anything you say can still be recorded. I¡¯m not going to consider this a private conversation. So, you have no reason to tell me anything, especially considering the court has already decided it wasn¡¯t murder.¡± ¡°Negligence or murder, what does it matter, my name is mud. I¡¯ll never have another client. My business is through. I lost the woman I love. And I¡¯ll be working to pay off the mediated damages for the next ten years. I¡¯m screwed either way, so you¡¯re going to listen to my gripe.¡± ¡°Tell me what you know, I got all day.¡± Phaolo picked up the empty bottle by the neck and swung it gently as he sung some lyrics while holding back tears, ¡°Suffering. What is suffering? When I¡¯m with you I¡¯m happy. The bliss fills my being. Share this world with you and become who I truly am. You¡¯re where I long to be. Suffering becomes my strength when I touch you.¡± ¡°Did you invite me here to sing her album to me. I listened to all her songs, each and every one. They were okay. Not really my thing.¡± ¡°Her almost hit song,¡± Phaolo said, ¡°Was her last words. You should note that down. Don¡¯t you think?¡± He took a piece of barbeque pork with his chopstick, put it in his mouth, and chewed slowly. He swallowed before he spoke again. ¡°They were destroying her. They killed her.¡± ¡°Who was?¡± ¡°Her critics,¡± he said, as he tapped the bottle on the counter, ¡°It all started because her hair fell in front of her face one time. Then it went viral! We were just starting to go big, and that review. It ate at her. They knew it ate her. She just wanted to be happy and give happiness. But it just got worse and worse until they finally struck the final blow!¡± ¡°Who struck the final blow?¡± Hands trembled as Phaolo continued, ¡°The same group that arranged the trolling. Investigate the lighting company with that red eyed woman. Miss Azoria! I gave you their card!¡± The detective shook his head and then slapped the plastic bag with the business card flat on the counter, ¡°Been through this before. The card is fake. No record of any such people existing, even your band doesn¡¯t remember anyone like you described being there. This whole business conspiracy theory is the reason you were a suspect at all! You should be careful who you try to bring down.¡± The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°I¡¯m not grasping at shadows, listen to me for a change! Something big is going on. Somebody big wanted her dead, maybe another idol agency. I just want to know the truth. Let me go over that night, from the top, one more time.¡± ----- The narrow trailer felt stuffy. The fan at the side window didn''t help much. Phaolo laid across the sofa reading a newspaper while Linh poured over the reviews on her laptop: -Honestly, she tries to act like she¡¯s the world¡¯s gift and the act is getting sickening. The way she addresses the audience like children while looking like she wants to kill everyone makes me want to vomit. -What well did this wannabe real doll crawl out of? Her voice okay I guess, but she luck like whorror movie. When she talk about frendship, luv, and happiness it just a bunch of bad bad bad feeling. -I lit a candle at midnight and Hoa Linh appeared inside my mirror with blood on her hands! LOL! -WELL CHILD! -We love you Hoa Linh, don¡¯t worry about what everyone else says. Hang in there! -I went to one of her smaller free concerts. She was nice and all and I had fun, but it wasn¡¯t worth buying an album. -Someone with a baby tried to get her autograph and the baby started crying. Poor baby. That¡¯s child abuse. -What is awful get-up, is trying to be magical girl? How many years ago were popular? Never be taken seriously if continues to sing in dumb dress. -WELL CHILD! -Her body nice, put bag on head and smash big time! Super! -Her voice is like someone trying to run a rock across a cheese grater and she looks like a one-woman horror show. Maybe she should try cutting off her hair but who wants to look at a bald idol. Too bad she can''t cut off her face. -Okay singer. Scary hair. Pasty skin. Very plain face. Super fake smile. Annoying look. -WELL CHILD! -Failure of an idol, she¡¯s never going to make it. She should try MacRogerts but not at the counter because nobody wants to look at that scary face. -Evil MacRogert¡¯s Fry Cook, lol! A hand went down on her shoulder causing her to jump with a start. Her hands went off the keyboard as Phaolo rubbed her shoulder. She adjusted her hair and relaxed slightly as he began to massage. ¡°I told you to stop reading these things, especially before a show. You should stop checking Idol Net altogether. This will blow over; it¡¯s just a viral phase and they want to see if they can make you implode. Show them your passion, win them over, leave your haters in the dust. You¡¯re so close to making it big.¡± She listed her head a bit, ¡°I think I need a break; it¡¯s getting a bit too much for me. What if I take six months off and come back? By then maybe it¡¯ll be better. I can get a makeover. I won¡¯t be the Well Child anymore. Perhaps we can write a new song together?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll talk about it after tonight¡¯s performance. Give this one your all, okay. Your make-up is perfect. And I¡¯ve hired someone to present you in the best light. You¡¯re going to be so beautiful and spread such happiness that all this viral nonsense will blow away like dust. And tonight is the start of it.¡± She stood up from the desk, already in her pink dress with ribbons and frills. The skirt puffed out slightly as she stood in pink heels. A copper mesh allowed the dress to keep its form and rebound. She had decided to wear her hair back in a pony-tail and made sure her bangs were cut shorter. They had spent extra on the best make-up artists. Her smile was genuine if a bit battle hardened. ¡°My lady,¡± he said as he opened the door. That took the battle scars away so he smiled back as they went outside. A beautiful woman in a business suit stood to greet them on the assembled stage overlooking the parking lot. An additional elevated platform housed the drums and the keyboard. The drummer and the pianist waved Linh over for a quick word. Azoria gripped her clipboard and bit her lower lip, ¡°Our company has installed the lighting system that will make her skin sparkle. I¡¯m sure your little troll problem will be a thing of the past. I¡¯m a big fan of her music. Do you mind if I say a word to her before the concert starts?¡± ¡°That would be no problem at all Miss Azoria.¡± This opening venue was hugely important, almost ten thousand people would be watching in this rented parking lot. They had even paid for tickets. Phaolo watched as the crowd filtered in. Sales numbers suggested full capacity. A knock could be a boost after all. He pumped his fist and then waved the star to the back stage. Azoria waited in the background until Linh passed her. She leaned forward, ¡°Break a leg. After your performance tonight, perhaps you can join me for a fun little game?¡± The star pushed her hair back, not entirely sure what the stage presence expert meant by that. Phaolo had taken care of all the negotiations, so this was the first time she¡¯d seen the woman, "Sure, I''d love to hang out with you for a bit." She went to use the portable restroom, get freshened up, drink some lemon water, adjust her costume, make final checks with the band, and exercise her voice with some pitch exercises before the big performance. Her fresh start began tonight. 38. Performance Of A Lifetime The band started her introduction theme, a soft number she had composed together with Phaolo. It started with a keyboard that varied the notes. The drum beat marched on slowly with regularity. Then the trumpet joined softly for a few notes as the piano picked up pace and set a higher pitch. A soft flash of fireworks at the side of the stage accompanied Linh¡¯s entrance. Unexpected thunder in the distance magnified the dramatic tension as she waved to the audience. Phaolo frowned as clouds closed upon the moon. A giant cable proved no obstacle for the nimble idol as she twirled over the giant cable duct taped to the stage over her path between the band platforms. It wouldn¡¯t interfere with her dance moves because it rested far enough toward the back. ¡°Hello everybody, I¡¯m so happy to sing for you. Let¡¯s cheer up together.¡± The music stopped; some more fireworks went off at the side of the stage. Somebody yelled ¡®Well Child!¡¯ from the audience. Then silence reigned until there was another clap of thunder. Linh trembled, gulped, and felt her knees knock together under her dress. With a fast twirl that made her bright pink dress bloom out in the glimmering lighting, she signaled he band to resume. Her arm came out and slender fingers with soft pink nails swayed as she felt a rain drop on her skin. The new lighting made the rain twinkle as her perfect make-up hid any imperfection in her complexion. A hushed awe came over the audience as the piano struck gentle keys. A violin ushered in her soft melody. I leaned on that rusted fence every day, Where we first met and laughed. As I watched the children play, I thought about what could be. I longed to feel your touch, Your gentle embrace. I miss you oh so much, Whenever I come to our place. Together, we could have reached the stars Together, we could have saved this world. I think of you, And wish from the bottom of my heart, That we could be together. I want to sing for you. From the depths of my soul. So come back to me. Be by my side. Please Come back to me. And we¡¯ll be... tooogether. As she hastened with the chorus her clarity of voice began to produce a slow clap from the audience. Yet another type of clap brewed within the sky. Thunder followed the boom of lightning. Big drops of rain suddenly pelted the audience in sheets. The wind howled. A puddle formed ever larger as the wind pushed water onto the stage from the front. A few in the audience opened umbrellas or pulled out plastic parkas. Together, we could have reached the stars. Together, we could have saved the world. Water ran down the supports, fell from the overhead tarp hastily raised over the singer and pooled toward the front of the stage. Azoria flipped the secondary lighting on. Tape peeled off wires, revealing gaping frays that exposed metal. I think of you, And I wish from the booAaaggghh! This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The wet stage proved too slippery as Linh fell on her butt during a simple sway. The speakers screeched as a jolting shock coursed through her system and her make-up began to run. She pulled herself up, kicked off her heels, and continue her song. A gust of wind lifted her hair as droplets of waters sparkled around her. Her voice electrified as her hair hung down dead straight in front of her uniform. Her stance limped. But she still sung. WE COULD BE TOGETHER! Smacks and pops sounded from the speakers. Her uniform darkened slightly, as if it caught on fire. Hair frayed. Make-up washed off to reveal pale skin in patches. The crowd began to chant: WELL CHILD! WELL CHILD! WELL CHILD! The tarp failed. Water cascaded over her head and soaked her hair while making her dress heavy. She stopped singing. The band stopped playing. The chants of continued louder and louder as Linh let out a frustrated scream. Current coursed up her legs and through her torso. She felt her heart popping and crackling as it beat angrily without a defined rhythm. Phaolo grabbed Azoria by the shoulder, ¡°Cut the lights, shut it down, this is a complete disaster. They¡¯ll eat her alive. It¡¯s over.¡± Azoria smiled, a bit damp herself now from the driving rain, ¡°We can salvage this. Lean into it. She may be no uplifting idol, but I sense the next goregrind sensation. Let¡¯s shift the lights!¡± The lights shifted to a purplish blacklight haze that turned Linh¡¯s wet and running make-up into a clownish visage of death itself. The pink electrified dress sparkled as her face contorted with each jolt of voltage from the puddle soaking her feet. ¡°MAKE IT STOP!¡± she screamed into the microphone. The drummer picked up on the theme and decided to abandon the repertoire. An intense drum solo that hit multiple notes followed as Linh absorbed multiple shocks. Her hair frayed as her palm burned into the microphone. The crowd went wild with chants of: WELL CHILD! WELL CHILD! WELL CHILD! Hoots, whistles, catcalls erupted from the audience. ¡°We fear you WELL CHILD!¡± screamed one group. Azoria turned to look at Phaolo with a knowing smirk, ¡°See, they didn¡¯t come to see an idol, they came to see... Well Child.¡± Linh stopped. She put her head down and raised the microphone above her head. The crowd screamed as rain smacked her burning costume. ¡°Is she on fire!?¡± Phaolo said, ¡°Shut it down. This isn¡¯t part of the show!¡± Azoria shrugged, ignoring him. He pushed her aside and flipped the main breaker but nothing happened, electricity flowed and continued the show. Phaolo ran across the back of the stage to look for the real breaker. Linh brought the microphone in front of her face. The drums smacked and the keyboard went wild. But they lacked an electric guitar. She cried into the microphone with an electric edge. SUFFERING!!!! The audience repeated her line. They screamed it back to her: SUFFERING! WHAT IS THIS SUFFERING? They screamed it back again. Her voice popped and cracked as it went unnaturally low. The light above her groaned so loudly it accompanied the music. The drummer kicked into an overdrive the pianist couldn¡¯t keep up. When I¡¯m with you I¡¯m HAPPY. The BLISS fills my being. Share this world with YOU and BECOME who I truly am. ¡°You are WELL CHILD! You are WELL CHILD! You are WELL CHILD!¡± the audience shouted. You¡¯re where I long to be. Suffering becomes my STRENGTH when I TOUCH yooou! She raised the microphone above her head and began to shake her hair. Perhaps this was who she truly was all along. She was the Well Child. Gore, horror, and death followed in her wake. A hand reached out and clutched hers to share in the electrical excitement flowing through her flesh. ¡°Phaolo?¡± The light housing above her snapped at the support. It came crashing down. It replaced her face. Phaolo stumbled back from her hand as a jolt went through him. The crowd hooted in nonstop chants as the drummer continued smacking down with enough force to destroy his instruments. Sparks flew from the metal cylinder entrapping what remained of Linh. She lifted her burning hot microphone one last time for the chanting crowd before collapsing. The lighting fixture echoed with a metallic clank. The lights died. ----- Stampedes of rain drops brushed the side of the sliding door as thunder bellowed with enough force to make the walls rumble. ¡°And then I called the police in the dark. No sign of that foreign woman, she ran under cover of darkness. The drummer was the next to realize that it wasn¡¯t part of the act. That Linh had been killed. Nobody on that stage can honestly say it wasn¡¯t deliberate sabotage.¡± The detective sighed, ¡°There were still people chanting when I arrived, that concert created quite the stir. Too bad it was her last. But as heart breaking as your story is, there¡¯s not much I can do when the card you gave me doesn¡¯t produce any leads.¡± ¡°It¡¯s like an entire company vanished from existence, that kind of stuff doesn¡¯t happen unless some powerful strings are being pulled.¡± Chien took a piece of roasted pork for himself and finished it quickly, ¡°If powerful strings are being pulled, it¡¯s best to keep your fingers out of the way. Well, best leave you to it.¡± ¡°Sorry if I wasted your time.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, it was a nice change of pace.¡± ¡°If I find that woman, she¡¯s dead. I don¡¯t care who she¡¯s working for.¡± Chien pretended he didn¡¯t hear that as he shouted towards the side of the kitchen, ¡°Excuse me, I¡¯ll get the bill.¡± A cuter and much younger voice than either man expected answered. ¡°I¡¯ll be right there, so let¡¯s play a game together!¡± Phaolo¡¯s ears twitched at the familiar voice that came from the back. Instead of the aged chef, a slender woman with glowing red eyes, intimidating horns, and a sly smile approached. He didn¡¯t recognize the horns, or the tail that swung behind her. Had Linh been killed by a literal hell spawn? He jumped the counter, but Azoria vanished into thin air the moment before his fist made contact. Pipes burst and hisses of air followed the scent of something sweetly sulfuric growing overwhelmingly strong in mere moments. The detective stood from his seat. ¡°We need to get out of this building now!¡± An orange beckoning cat toy with black stripes smiled at them while the stove burner¡¯s ignition repeatedly clicked. 39. Nothing Phaolo awoke. What could he remember? He had been in an explosion and woke up once before in this cave, fully dressed, clean, and unharmed. He had checked the walls for an escape. Most of his attention had focused on searching for cracks or clues in the brightly lit walls. So, he had never noticed the firebolts. It had felt like he¡¯d been in a second explosion and everything went dark all over again. But when he woke up the second time, his body was shoved against the wall. He tried to roll on his side when he discovered the burnt stump of his lower left leg attempting to move a foot that didn¡¯t exist. Another raggedly burnt stump simmered, smoking slightly where his lower right arm used to be. Not long afterward a brand pressed into his forehead; he hadn¡¯t been paying attention to Azoria despite her voice being so clear in his head. The freshly introduced mark oozed hateful tendrils that caressed his face in shadow before they slid down his neck and over his shoulders. They stopped short of going too deep below his collar. The excruciating pain drowned everything else as time morphed into slow-motion. Phaolo clutched his head, arched his cracking spine, vomited, then cried as he curled up over his own spill. He all but embraced death on the granite when the evil one herself appeared again in her slick white heels with dark stockings patterned with bats. The nurse¡¯s uniform skirt clung tightly to her hips. A giant syringe with a long thick needle, comically so, rested across her palm. With a swirl she pointed it at him. The needle penetrated below his rib cage to release its contents directly into Phaolo¡¯s stomach. ¡°Pull yourself together and complete my mission if you want more.¡± She vanished without another word, leaving him to writhe. After a few minutes the pain began to break. A stray thought broke into his head. He wasn¡¯t thinking only of making the pain stop. His head no longer felt like it was burned, peeled, and crushed in a vice at the same time. The tendrils retracted. They slipped quietly into the brand. The glowing faded in the pattern of a shutting eye. It left Phaolo with a still aching brand of burnt crispy skin that resembled a closed eye or half moon depending on how one viewed it. He opened his eyes and noticed something in front of his face. His hand. His hand still smoldered in front of his nose. It laid on its back with a pill bottle clutched between its tightening fingers. The number 3 was labeled prominently on the bottle. Phaolo braced the bottle against the palm and twisted the cap to see three large red and black pills. After peeking, he closed the cap. Phaolo grabbed his hand, but remained unsure how it could do him good. The jagged wound with splintered bone and burnt flesh did not lend to any hopes of reattachment. But he wanted it. And not far from the wall laid his foot, still set inside his fancy brown shoe. He could not stand, so he slid on his belly and put the dismembered foot on his back as well. His head spun. What did he remember? Dying in that explosion, then this cave, then smacking face first into the cave wall from what felt like rocket launchers blasting his limbs. But nobody packed that sort of weaponry, at least nobody near him. He¡¯d seen only people in various civilian clothes, perhaps a burkha or two. Maybe that was it! It could have been some type of grenade from behind. But why him? He hadn¡¯t been bothering anyone. He¡¯d dodged a fight, watched a fat man start slicing a corpse, and turned away in disgust to look for a way out of this place. There was some stupid announcement about powers he refused to pay attention to. But then that voice, it was the demon woman all over again. He¡¯d no sooner turned to look, filling with rage, when he smacked the wall and the lights went out, everything became nothing. Was it really some kind of magic, some kind of game, some kind of system? Then here he was, already way behind the eight ball. His pool shark days were over at this rate. Movement came slowly but the smooth floor allowed him to slide around on his belly. The huge cave made it difficut to decide a direction with his cloudy vision. Something must have happened when his forehead had hit the more jagged curves of the wall. At least it wasn¡¯t bleeding anymore thanks to the brand. His limbs shook. That kind of pain, just the thought of it returning made him want to puke up the nothing left in his stomach. His pants were already soiled. It felt terrible, like being an insect in a cage. All he could do was drag himself along and hope for some further mercy. He found nothing yet. The demon had said to pull himself together. Perhaps she meant something by it. Maybe there was a chance to reattach his limbs? Perhaps he should try checking the system to see if he had any abilities to help? Where had that thought come from? What system? What abilities? That sounded like some nonsense. He lifted a shaking finger in the air and swiped slightly. A screen appeared in front of his face. Despite his vision being blurry, he could sense the information and numbers so long as his fingers pushed through the hologram even slightly. Phaolo Ngo Agent Of The Well
Skills Description
Nothing You were a lazy nobody in life who fed off the labor of others. You get nothing for your powers. This power will not level up.
Passives Description
Influence Novice 01 You gain a ten percent growth bonus to any stat that boosts charisma and he ability to influence others without involving direct leadership.
Detection Of Malice Novice 01 Your ability to detect malicious intent conveyed by hatred or a grudge against you will produce a steady ringing in your head. Avoid this ringing at all cost. Leveling up improves range of detection.
Half Moon Brand: Forehead When the brand is active, you can not go into shock or fall unconscious. The tendrils will promote healing of critical injuries within their domain while inflicting maximum pain from them. The tendrils can reattach limbs over any area of the body they have influence so long as the pieces are within a meter of the mark. The intense pain of the brand causes accelerated sanity loss which can be mitigated by spirit based stats. Up to one brand can be rendered dormant for a short time by consuming the flesh of Azoria.
Curses Description
Agent Of The Well You failed her. Now you must avoid her.
Half Moon Brand: Forehead You refused to make a choice and are marked as a traitor against Azoria. The mark will bring pain and feed on it. You will never have rest. However, service to your Lord may abate your pain for a time.
Dismemberment: Lower Right Arm You lost a limb. Stat reductions applied to area of loss. Grip strength permanently halved. Arm Strength permanently reduced by one fourth. Stat growth penalized accordingly.
Severe Injury: Lower Right Arm You are injured. Stat reductions proportional to severity of injury. Hit box points reduced proportional to severity and location of injuries. Attacks to injured areas always result in critical hits.
Dismemberment: Lower Left Leg You lost a limb. Stat reductions applied to area of loss. Leg strength permanently halved. Speed permanently reduced by ninety percent. Stat growth penalized accordingly.
Severe Injury: Lower Left Leg You are injured. Stat reductions proportional to severity of injury. Hit box points reduced proportional to severity and location of injuries. Attacks to injured areas always result in critical hits.
Injury: Head You are injured. Stat reductions proportional to severity of injury. Hit box points reduced proportional to severity and location of injuries. Attacks to injured areas always result in critical hits.
Vital Statistics # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat #
Perception 61* Sight 11* Hearing 89 Touch 76 Awareness 53* Spiritual 79 Nil Nil
Strength 21* Arms 09* Legs 11* Torso 32 Back 51 Grip 23* Nil Nil
Toughness 30* Blunt 21 Slice 05 Pressure 20* Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Stamina 32 Heart 34 Lungs 46 Arms 27 Legs 28 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Speed 09* Swim 01* Swing 12* Run 01* Think 73 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Agility 37* Arms 11* Legs 12* Torso 47 Back 39 Fingers 49 Nil Nil
Fortitude 50 Magic Def 50 Mental Def 50 Stability 50 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Intelligence 65 Emotional 89 Scientific 15 Spiritual 46 Interpersonal 76 Bestial 68 Creative 78
Magic 50 Fire 40 Ice 50 Water 60 Wind 70 Earth 40 Nil Nil
Spirit 71 Restoration 11 Illusion 63 Life 09 Dark 60 Light 40 Resistance 90
Luck 73 Money 37 Combat 41 Magic 76 Relational 99 Nil If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Nil Nil Nil
So, he had no powers? He couldn¡¯t tell if his numbers were good our bad. There was nobody and nothing to compare them with. And Well Child? What kind of hellishly cruel sick joke was this place, this system? He began moving, faster, towards a person, an old man, sitting on the floor and staring towards the ceiling as he played with a needle and thread. If he could see it properly, his eyes were only slowly coming into focus. He needed help or he surely would die soon if death was possible here. Why had he been sent to hell? "What have I done to deserve this? Haven''t I been obediant? Have I not gone to church every Sunday? Have I not generously tithed!? I have always said my prayers, used my rosary, made my confessions. So why am I in this place!?" 40. House Of Lies A slightly foul scent of human waste hung in the air as Phaolo drug himself near on of the long flaming chains that crisscrossed the caverns. A middle eastern looking man sat facing the chain. He wore a white and blue plaid shirt heavily stained with blood toward the waist and a simple loose pair of dark brown pants that were faded around the knees. A black tattoo of thin wires formed intertwining waves around his neck. He sat cross-legged with his hands in his lap while his head hung down. The man mumbled to himself as Phaolo struggled to push himself into hearing range and reached with his jagged severed limb. ¡°Help me!¡± he cried with a raspy voice. The praying man looked up and stared directly into the chain, ¡°And who are you that I may help you? What do you need that I could possibly provide you in this place, this House Of The Lie?¡± Phaolo went limp and his cheek rested on the cool granite. He didn¡¯t say another word. The stranger turned from the warmth of the chain and looked over the body. His lip twitched at the dismembered parts resting on Phaolo¡¯s back and observed the hollow expression of a dying man. ¡°I can help you, but tell no one of my services. From what I have read, my threads will not heal you, but they will buy you some time and enable your movements. But will you be fine in trusting me? If not, then I have no help to offer you. I will not be angry, as I understand that where we are is not a place of hope. But without your trust it is best for you to move on.¡± Phaolo raised his head slowly to stare at this strange man, at his dark mustache and dark eyelids that looked tired. A small black bag sat curled in his legs. Was he a doctor? ¡°I¡¯ll trust you,¡± he said, ¡°What should I do?¡± ¡°First tell me your name in truth.¡± ¡°My name is Phaolo Ngo.¡± The tailor pushed a finger coated with dried crimson as if pressing a button. A screen manifested. He began to swipe. For a long moment he stared while rubbing his chin and stroking his thick black mustache. Flecks of dried blood scraped off his fingers. Eyes widened as they scanned the screen and his mouth listed open slightly. The gaze that returned to Phaolo softened. ¡°I see. And you¡¯re also branded. I¡¯m sorry. Set your hand and your foot before me, then lay on your back. I¡¯m a tailor. I¡¯m going to use my skill to sew you back together.¡± ¡°You¡¯re going to do what?¡± ¡°It¡¯s your choice, let me work, or no?¡± First, the foot went straight with the sole against the granite. The hand laid on tight fingers still holding the pill bottle. Acid belched up from the stomach onto the tongue and burned across the throat as he pushed himself to sit, then turned his body before laying on his back. The tailor shifted over towards Phaolo with his case in his lap. It clicked open to reveal spools of red, brown, and white threads. He grabbed the severed hand with his clot coated fingers, took a sharp looking glistening needle, and pushed it through the cool necrotic flesh that had dried around the flash burns. The needle wove through and around the flesh just above the wrist to tighten it. The work moved slowly as Phaolo watched. ¡°How exactly is this going to help me?¡± The tailor kept focus on his work; his eye pierced the same flesh that the needle wove through, ¡°We have been given a chance to escape the House Of Lies. Perhaps we were not so good, but not so bad either. Perhaps. Have you not checked your skills?¡± ¡°So, purgatory then? And yes, I have checked them.¡± ¡°Then you should check mine. My name is Zirakzadeh Zavan. When I still drew breath in the world of the living, I was a wealthy tailor from the city of Yazd. But I suppose I valued my business and wealth too highly, so I find myself here. You?¡± ¡°I¡¯m from Ho Chi Minh city,¡± Phaolo said, ¡°But I died in Hanoi. At least I think that¡¯s what happened. I suddenly found myself standing around here in this cave. Then something hit me and I woke up like this, but in the most intense pain I¡¯ve ever felt in my life. That demon did something to me, a giant needle in my stomach, and the pain abated. The same demon that appeared in Hanoi before Linh died, and before I died.¡± The tailor finished circling the hand with thread and tightened it slightly to test the durability of the work. With a pull of the threads the fingers tightened over the medicine bottle. Phaolo opened the index while the tailor checked his work. He didn¡¯t see many names, just his own, Zirakzadeh¡¯s, and Linh Hoa! There was one more name that wasn¡¯t blurred out, Nguyen Wen Chien! He wiped his sweaty forehead with his good hand as the tailor leaned forward holding Phaolo¡¯s severed hand and a needle laced with thread. ¡°In this house of lies, I will strive to tell the truth. My work will not feel pleasant, even after it is finished. Nor will it last long, perhaps a month at most before the flesh is too rotten to hold.¡± ¡°May I check your skills first?¡± ¡°You have my blessing.¡± Zirakzadeh Zavan Sew-Sew Tailor
Skill Description
Tailoring Novice 01 Your repairs to clothing provide slightly greater stat bonuses than normal.
Patches Novice 01 Your patches have increased endurance and will always be a little bit stronger than the patched material. Tearing them off will require slightly more exertion than needed to tear the original material.
Sew What Novice 01 You have the ability to sew any item penetrable by a needle to living flesh. The beneficiary of the ability will be able to manipulate said items via mana usage. The threads will transfer mana from the host to the inanimate material.
Skill Description
Dead Threads Novice 01 When your threads connect living flesh to dead, the decay of the dead part will slow by half. However, The living part will become twice as susceptible to infection and necrosis.
Needle Strength Novice 03 Your strength and agility when working with a needle and thread increase by thirteen percent.
Eye For Detail Novice 03: When working with a needle and thread. Stats of visual and touch perception increase thirteen percent faster than normal.
Curse Description
Severe Asthma 01 Your lung stamina will be reduced by half in stale air environments and further in proportion to the impurity level. Lung stamina growth rate halved.
Vital Statistics # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat #
Perception 94 Sight 99 Hearing 85 Touch 109 Awareness 99 Spiritual 99 Nil Nil
Strength 01 Arms 59 Legs 31 Torso 41 Back 53 Grip 74 Nil Nil
Toughness 54 Blunt 51 Slice 61 Pressure 50 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Stamina 40 Heart 31 Lungs 43 Arms 57 Legs 21 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Speed 53 Swim 11 Swing 42 Run 15 Think 78 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Agility 76 Arms 81 Legs 57 Torso 67 Back 49 Fingers 99 Nil Nil
Fortitude 78 Magic Def 65 Mental Def 88 Stability 60 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Intelligence 61 Emotional 89 Scientific 27 Spiritual 99 Interpersonal 94 Bestial 39 Creative 74
Magic 75 Fire 75 Ice 75 Water 75 Wind 75 Earth 75 Nil Nil
Spirit 78 Restoration 68 Illusion 78 Life 18 Dark 88 Light 88 Resistance 88
Luck 63 Money 68 Combat 21 Magic 80 Relational 57 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Phaolo held his arm out, ¡°Do what you can. I trust you.¡± The tailor tightly pinched the end of the needle that held the tied thread. A strong hand grappled the upper arm above the wound. The burnt flesh squeezed outward slightly from the strength of the grip and even a bit of blood oozed through the cauterized, sewn, and scabbed wound. ¡°I must be honest then. While you were sleeping, I sewed your arteries shut as they spewed blood. I sewed whatever the fire had not burnt shut. But I had not expected you to survive. I felt as if I was performing a cruelty, but then again, it may be that dying here sends us deeper. I don¡¯t know. But you should get these wounds properly cared for. May my threads give you the time needed to seek a healing miracle.¡± The needle stung as it pushed through healthy skin. The thread ran through the hole until a single thread connected his arm to his lifeless hand. The tailor wove the thread through the ring he had sewn in the cool flesh, then brought it out, to the side, back in and then out through the bump again. The needle reached back to the arm pierce it for the second attachment. Phaolo grimaced as he held his arm out straight. This painful sting itched repeatedly with every return. Breathing became labored and desperate as his toes pushed against his shoe. Zirakzadeh pull a handkerchief from his back pocket and offered it with unwashed hands coated in blood. Phaolo took it and bit down. The work continued until, finally, mana flowed into the threads. Phaolo felt a tingle, then a burn, and the muscles of his arm twitched as severed bone rubbed the side of severed bone. The fingers of the dead hand released, twitched, and then clenched. The movement proved stiff. A gap remained where the threads bridged the flesh living and dead. But Phaolo could move his hand again. Now it was time for the foot. ¡°So, you don¡¯t think we¡¯re in hell? Honestly, I wouldn¡¯t expect to meet someone like you here. Maybe we¡¯re in purgatory.¡± ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s as you say,¡± the tailor examined the splintered end of the severed foot and peeled the stockings away from the cold burnt flesh until he found solid pale skin. Phaolo closed his eyes, ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking, how did you get here? Or how did you die? I was caught in a gas explosion at a BBQ restaurant. The place must have burst, because I was there and then I was here.¡± The needle led the thread in crisscrossing the flesh just above the ankle. Phaolo flexed his hand as he felt mana flow from his body through the threads into the wrist and up the fingers. He had no sensation in the hand, but by using mana he could manipulate it. Finished wrapping threads around the upper ankle, the tailor pulled the string and readied himself to attach the foot to Phaolo¡¯s leg. A whispered chuckle made the tailor¡¯s chest vibrate. ¡°I was vacationing in Tyre. A beautiful stranger wanted to contact me to play a game at her hotel. She gave me a pager. Who was I to refuse?¡± The needle pushed firmly through Phaolo¡¯s leg. 41. Do You Like Goblins? Sollerets clanked against the cave floor as the knight pushed forward steadily. The plain steel heater shield with no insignia hung over his back while the single-handed sword remained sheathed in his leather belt. A mummified corpse in dried leather armor, a bow on her back, rested on his left shoulder. He held by his right arm like a sack of beans. Carrie walked gingerly besides him with her hands folded behind her back as she tended to do when she wasn¡¯t checking her bow. Fat mushrooms lit the cavern ceiling in dingy yellow as they hung down from speckled stems. Crudely scratched drawings lined the cavern walls. They looked like little warriors hunting a beast. Little statues of uncut bones tied together with rotted leather and twine marked the path. ¡°Do you think possibly we¡¯ve reached a civilization? Do you think they¡¯ll be friendly dearest?¡± ¡°Best we be on our guard, angel,¡± Mike scanned the dimly lit cavern as he heard the shuffling of feet, ¡°We¡¯ve already seen what happened to the others. I picked a mint for you; they are quite delectable. Would you like it before we go further.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not much fond of mint, dearest. Please enjoy it. I insist.¡± The aluminum foil on the mint proved difficult to open with his gauntlets. ¡°Having trouble, dearest?¡± ¡°Yes, can you open this bugger for me?¡± ¡°Yes, dearest, give it to me please.¡± ¡°Thank you, my angel.¡± A malformed and crushed chocolate mint plopped into his mouth. The curled foil fell near a bone pillar. The weight of his armor, sword, and shield felt heavy on his shoulders and bit on his stamina as he continued to trudge forward. Minor stat notices flickered at the side of his vision. Then the cavern opened before them from the once narrow path. Three small creatures rushed to face the knight. Two had worn wooden pole-arms; the one in the center a staff decorated with a skull. The sight of the staff caused Mike to grimace and back away a step. He almost fell backwards. He reached for his sword, but Carrie put a calming hand on his shoulder. ¡°Dearest, I don¡¯t think they mean us harm. They¡¯re just scared, after all we¡¯re blessed of Azoria.¡± The knight caught a breath and took a better look. The lighting of the mushrooms proved insufficient, so with a twirl of his hand Carrie cast mage light over them. A sparkling blue light revealed the forms of the three creatures. They had long pointy ears and none were much over three feet tall. From the looks of their lumpy green faces, Mike decided that these were goblins. Cave goblins to be exact, because they lived in a cave. ¡°Do you like goblins?¡± he asked Carrie with a sly smile. ¡°Oh, shut it now! You¡¯re not going to use that line on me!¡± The goblins with polearms had fierce looking eyes of pure red, while the one holding a skull staff had coal colored eyes. The one in the center began to speak with a raspy, gnarled voice. ¡°Erapta, Vovovovo!¡± ¡°Apparently we weren¡¯t gifted with the ability to speak goblin.¡± A voice called from inside the wider caverns, ¡°No worries, welcome to our village. Some of my kin can speak Demonian. Some can even speak it quite well.¡± ¡°Is that what we¡¯re speaking, not English? I¡¯ve felt like something in my head had been replaced since I awoke here with my love.¡± The knight remained steadfast as an older goblin approached into the mage light. The hunched deformity of his back made him seem smaller than he was. He had a thin wispy beard that almost reached the ground. A withered stick served as his cane. The others broke ranks for him as he observed the knight. ¡°Fierce knight, welcome to the village of Grugspitl.¡± ¡°And what about my lady, is she not welcome in your village?¡± The goblin elder weakly craned his head. This knight had the marks of a Demonian. The corpse had no markings, yet it appeared to have been someone he treasured. The goblin holding the skull staff turned to the elder, ¡°Stalil fet goren avave?¡± The elder replied by raising a hand with reassuring smile, ¡°Stalil Demonian. Gorble taks.¡± ¡°Are you going to continue to test my patience with your crass language?¡± Carrie put a hand on his shoulder and leaned against him, whispering in his ear, ¡°They are not hostile and we can take food and rest here. We¡¯ll just stay on our guard, dearest. Don¡¯t worry, I can handle myself if they betray us.¡± ¡°I see, that¡¯s why you are indeed my better angel.¡± The elder goblin tilted his head curiously as the knight spoke to thin air. He hesitated for a moment and tilted his head in deep thought. Before them stood a demonian human warrior, unseen for centuries. This was cause for further celebration. Azoria would protect and grant prosperity to the tribe if they offered a warm welcome. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°You two look starved, come with me if you please. We are having a festival to celebrate the lighting of the beacon and your very arrival. Yes, with the arrival of Azoria¡¯s champions, we¡¯ll be ushered forth into a new era of bathing in the light of the stars!¡± The staff reached upwards and grabbed the mage light. The elder beckoned the others to follow them as they walked though dimly lit caverns speckled with bone sculptures and scratches depicting both hunts and battles. The knight creaked and clattered like a tin can with every step. He groaned and grumbled sights and his steps became heavier. They stopped at a flat rock. The goblin elder chanted before blue light flickered in lines carved upon the door, which slid aside. A horde of little green people peaked from leathery tents, looked up from campfires baking rats or pots of boiling slime. They peered from dwellings carved in thick stalagmites and the walls of the cave itself. There were small goblins, much less deformed looking, almost cute. The sight of them made Carrie giggle. Most were dressed, even if in rags and skinned beasts. Some of their numbers were hunters with pikes who stood with their women. Moans and groans could be heard from some of the tents they passed to closely. Goblin females in various stages of pregnancy stood around fires, some nursing young. The females were slightly fairer of face than the males but shorter, none over three feet tall. Streamers of bone lined the ceiling. The same phosphorescence that brightened Azoria¡¯s chamber presented itself here in dimmer form. Every dwelling had glowing mushroom nearby. Yet, without the mage light the cave remained dark for humans aside for the roaring fire in the center of the village. As they sat to warm themselves by the fire, Mike observed an elevated platform of flat stone carved with a glowing violet sigil. On the other side of the fire, goblins of all stripes conducted a dance around a large monster bone statue of a beast in the shape of a minotaur. They kicked their legs, raised their hands, and sung short bursts of poetry in their language. Carrie set herself by the fired. Her legs folded against her torso and her arms rested beside her as she looked into the fire. The elder took a seat on the mat beside the mummified archer. Two goblins munching a roasted cave rat on the other side of the fire looked at the new arrivals. ¡°Burgle eh, felth nage?¡± said one. ¡°Dead one, bring why?¡± said the other in broken common. The elder goblin stared firmly with admonishment and the two went back to eating without further comment. The wizened goblin sighed, ¡°Feel free to take rest in our humble village. We don¡¯t have much to offer, but we will do what we can for any warrior of Azoria. If you need anything, I am at your service. Just call for Garbleck Orzerek. In common Demonian, it translates to village elder.¡± Mikes stomach growled, ¡°We are famished. Can you prepare us something that isn¡¯t a roasted rat or a disgusting cave fungus?¡± The elder stood and spoke to the holder of the skull wand, who in turn ordered on the spear holders to relay a message. ¡°The finest we can offer is Mini-mogg and Mini-moggtaur steak. Our warriors are not capable of facing a full-fledged Mogg-taur. It is the best we can offer, cooked with cave salt, onions, and mushrooms as, being trapped in this corner of a dungeon for ten thousand years, we are limited in our options. But when we rise to the surface! Oh, that is another matter. I pray the surface has not become too bright for our eyes.¡± Mike grunted halfhearted approval. He noticed a slightly cold breeze; something ventilated this cavern. Could they be close to the surface? Carrie didn¡¯t say anything, she seemed a bit down lately. As his stamina recovered a notice alert flickered in his side vision. He opened the status screen and selected the available quests. ¡°From Azoria herself no less,¡± Carrie mused. [Quest: Kill Order For Circe Oratia Sheffield: Divergent Bookworm] Honorary Demonians: By all means at your disposal you are to seek and destroy this death berserker. The ones who succeed in this mission will become my closest advisor and receive great rewards beyond even my boon. You may utilize any teleportation ring to reach the floor it dwells upon by opening this quest request on entering. Good luck and my blessing upon you. ¡°She¡¯s still on the listing,¡± Carrie said, ¡°I don¡¯t like the sound of this at all. Should we leave at once?¡± ¡°I¡¯m tired angel, we can leave after we¡¯ve eaten and rested. Perhaps we can recruit a few of these mobs to guard us. They won¡¯t refuse a quest from Azoria. It would be worthwhile to fill out the party some.¡± A few bladders were brought to the fire. The goblin elder tapped his staff and looked up, ¡°While we wait to dine, how about you partake in some brew?¡± ¡°Do you have water?¡± ¡°Only from the finest springs,¡± he said, gesturing to the water bladder before he poured himself a helping of brew in his fiber mug, ¡°Would you fine Demonian heroes be willing to share your names?¡± Mike stood and drew his sword. ¡°Have I offended you in some way?¡± ¡°Our names are the key to our powers. We don¡¯t share them lightly.¡± ¡°I understand, my humblest apologies sir knight and madam archer. I meant no subterfuge or disrespect.¡± Mike sheathed his sword with a disapproving grunt. Finally, the food arrived. A charred rat tail sufficed for the elder, a salad of mushrooms and grilled rat meat reached the attendants. A silver platter held a thick simmering steak glazed with mushroom sauce and speckled with onions before the hungry knight. At first, he salivated, but then his eyes narrowed and face reddened. The silver platter flung like a discus into the eyes of the server. The meal splattered about mats, some of it landed on Carrie¡¯s mummified lap. ¡°How dare you serve me without acknowledging my lady! Have you no chivalry! A lady is to be always served first you witless slime. I¡¯ll have your head for this. Do you have any idea who we are? We are knights of Azoria herself, granted armor and weapons to symbolize our status above even the others among her chosen! When I am served, she is served, or she is served first. Do I make myself clear? Now clean this up and bring two more, fresh, the same as before. Hurry with it, my patience wanes!¡± The serving goblin clutched his nose and had paid little attention to the speech as it writhed about with a bit of green blood trickling from its nostrils. Red and black beady eyes from every corner of the village leered in the direction of the fire as the elder stood and tapped his cane. The offending server found himself drug out of sight. A young goblin lass gathered the spilled food delicately in a dried mushroom bowl, making sure to clean it and arrange it neatly. ¡°My apologies for these oversights my lord and lady from Azoria. It will be as you request. Please don¡¯t punish us too harshly for overlooking you, my lady. We apologize that our offerings are so humble.¡± Carrie pushed at his armored leggings, ¡°Be gentle with them dearest, they¡¯re only goblins. They barely know better.¡± 42. Spectacles Fedor licked the bones clean and let them clatter on the floor as he finished each section of the battered skeleton methodically. Mark tapped his foot with his arms crossed around his chest while looking at the ceiling. Banko cowered a bit. He scanned the cave nervously as he adjusted his tie. Carson slumped his posture and dropped his head. Nickey did nearly the same motions as Mark, but she stood further away from the group and looking toward Fedor. She listened to the discussion of the others silently. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Shouldn¡¯t we take a rest before going any further? How are we doing this mission? Who is leader? I really need a Moanstar right about now. Sorry. I mean seriously need one or I¡¯m gonna fold. We haven¡¯t even figured out what¡¯s going on here, what¡¯s the point in rushing into a mission.¡± ¡°Gamer-boy, she¡¯s weak as crap. It¡¯s an easy mission. We¡¯d be insane to ignore it. Besides, don¡¯t you want to help put the little scrap out of her misery?¡± ¡°As a team we can compensate for each other¡¯s strengths and weaknesses. With a comprehensive battle management strategy, we can mitigate the risk to the point of nonexistence and reap massive profits. This mission is essentially starting capital.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know man, sorry, I¡¯m exhausted. I just feel like I want to collapse.¡± ¡°You require an energy drink or some kind of potion. I¡¯m sure they¡¯re plentiful in the dungeon. Once you¡¯ve had one, you¡¯ll feel good as gold. I bet even a coffee would fulfill the requirements.¡± ¡°Making me addicted to stimulants was not a fair move.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re telling me you weren¡¯t chugging the juice nonstop back in Michigan or wherever it was you said you were from?¡± ¡°I drank one or two cans a day, five at most. That¡¯s not addiction. And I¡¯m a Canadian, thank you very much. Do you even listen? Sorry.¡± ¡°Canada is just upstate Michigan as far as I¡¯m concerned.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, what?¡± ¡°Anyway, paper-pusher, you can wrap her hands and feet, correct? How¡¯s your control looking?¡± ¡°I¡¯m improving faster than I thought possible. I can distract her and bind her up like a little stuck pig for the company picnic.¡± ¡°Good. Gamer-boy, you stay out of the way until we can get a potion. Do your best to stay alive and out of trouble.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m not with this type of quest anyway.¡± ¡°Question, would food be considered an enhancement substance? Perhaps if we give the kid a nutrition bar he¡¯ll perk right back up?¡± ¡°I already ate one, sorry, it did nothing but made my stomach feel heavy. And I¡¯m not a kid, I¡¯m eighteen. Sorry.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not an adult until you¡¯re at least twenty.¡± ¡°Sorry, that¡¯s sounds like something a boomer would say.¡± ¡°Back to the plan ladies! So, we try to get gamer-boy an energy drink or something to pick him up. That way, he can have our backs instead of being a liability. Once we get settled, we go all in on ambushing twerpy. We can tag twerpy¡¯s corpse and bag her with just the paper-pusher and myself. However, where the problem arises is, we don¡¯t know what else is waiting for us behind that door. Girlie can fight with Fatso, those two make a good combo when things go south.¡± ¡°So strap her, zap her, wrap her, and then bap her!¡± ¡°Your sense of humor is noted. I¡¯ll take the killing blow, saves you from getting blood on your hands. Let¡¯s move out, who wants to see if Fatso wants in?¡± The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°What about those two, well three, in her party? Sorry, I mean. They seemed to be friends and all. Should we invite them? Seems like they might want to say a proper farewell and all.¡± ¡°Sleepy, Dopey, and now Grumpy? Why in the world would want to invite those three clowns!? Five is the magic number for maneuvering around in this dungeon. I¡¯m not in the business of dragging dead weight around. Much less unstable deadweight. Tell you what, if you want to leave and go join them, you¡¯re more than welcome. Just mosey on over there.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what I said! ...sorry. I¡¯m with this group, our group. It¡¯s just... no nothing. Sorry. I¡¯m just tired. Sorry. Brain fog. Sorry.¡± ¡°Hey big guy! You ready to get some easy points on Azoria¡¯s quest?¡± Big guy tilted his head. As he stood, polished bones fell from his lap with a clatter. A burp echoed through their section of the cave. Roaches returned and crawled over the bone. Fedor turned while licking his lips. With the back of his arm, he wiped the bloody saliva laced with rotting viscera from his chin. Each step towards the group caused a barely perceptible shake that only Nickey could fully perceive. He walked past Alfredo and Ebony, both of whom were on their backs and apparently sound asleep, even if one looked to be uneasy. A thin old man in sackcloth robes sat behind them in a meditative stance. ¡°I knew she¡¯d be soon dying. Very unfortunate about her. I¡¯m feeling the sadness in my heart and will bring her misery to be ended.¡± Mark put a hand on Fedor¡¯s shoulder, ¡°You have a good heart big guy. I¡¯m sorry about what I did earlier. It was¡­ it was a big mistake. But when you really think about it, I was only trying to do the right thing all along.¡± Fedor¡¯s eyes narrowed, ¡°I do not be understanding how you think. But I will still be joining you for this mission to save this woman from the deep pains of the insanity.¡± ¡°Anyway, Welcome to the team fatso.¡± Fedor grunted. ¡°I meant it as a term of endearment big guy.¡± Nickey shuddered and walked away with her arms around her chest. Her thin body felt cold despite her coat, despite the cave being close to room temperature. And yet little drops of sweat formed on her forehead. This was. She looked towards the stage where Azoria stood like the vision of some angel or a saint. Was this? Something crackled under the heel of her boot. She squatted down and lifted her foot out of the way to see the smashed frames of a small pair of glasses. She clamped them between the tips of her middle and index finger. The lenses were cracked from being stepped on. The frames were mangled beyond repair. The bar for the left ear had snapped off. A blood stain covered the right lens. As Nickey rose with the glasses she replayed a voice from recent memory: If my friend dies, it¡¯ll be on you! Even if you don¡¯t care, I¡¯m holding you responsible! Nickey rubbed her thumb over the edge of the spectacles. A jagged splinter of metal cut her thumb and drew some blood. This was an assassination. That girl wasn¡¯t dead yet. The rabbit watched from the shadows. Its cold red eyes shot icy judgement through her being. She gripped the spectacles in her palm and thrust them in her coat pocket. The sound of cracking frames came from her coat. ¡°I don¡¯t want to do thish! Thish... it¡¯sh not right. I refuse. I¡¯m not doing it. I refuse!¡± ¡°Weren¡¯t you some kind of assassin girlie? Wasn¡¯t expecting you to go getting cold feet on your team. You¡¯re too good of a fighter to not be all in.¡± She approached them again. ¡°There¡¯s shomething wrong with this. Why can¡¯t we forget about it?¡± A firm hand went on her shoulder and gripped, ¡°Look, you don¡¯t even have to fight twerpy. I¡¯ll do the honors. I wouldn¡¯t have it any other way.¡± ¡°We should take a vote on it. I proposhe we skip this quest and don¡¯t get involved. Let¡¯s try to get Carson taken care of and get out of this cave.¡± ¡°This is a crucial quest. We can¡¯t just abandon it. Who knows how badly we¡¯ll be penalized. You saw what happened to the people who didn¡¯t choose. And the idiots who resisted.¡± Darrone raised his head as Megan continued clutching his clothes. Her face pushed against him. He gave her some comforting pats as he glared at the meeting among honorary Demonians. ¡°Anyway,¡± Mark snorted, then spat fat slimy snot ball on the floor, ¡°I vote we go and complete this mission. I¡¯m the leader. My vote counts double. That¡¯s two votes.¡± ¡°I¡¯m the best fighter, and I vote we get out of this place as soon as possible. My vote counts double too. That¡¯s two voteshs against.¡± They looked at Banko and Carson. Carson shrugged his shoulders. ¡°I need to get an energy drink before I decide anything, sorry,¡± Carson said, ¡°I don¡¯t like the sound of this quest. It has to be an optional quest. Maybe a trap quest. I vote we ignore it.¡± ¡°Following the directive of upper management is our imperative. I vote we complete the assigned task.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a tie,¡± Nickey said. ¡°No, we have one more here and he¡¯s kind of hard to ignore. It¡¯s your call big guy.¡± Fedor ran his fingers along the handle of his meat cleaver, a small sigh pushed past his bruised lips, ¡°We put the small one out the misery with the care and respect deserved. Please be considering she was my friend. Let¡¯s be going.¡± He trudged reluctantly towards the exit that would take them to the quest floor. The others followed. Mark whistled softly, victoriously to himself as he put his hands behind his neck for the stroll. 43. Why? A truck sat in the running sewage. A delivery truck. Shelter. Her body swayed dizzily. She clawed at her face as she leaned her forehead against the door. A scream absorbed into the muck. Circe retched for the five hundredth time. Pain shot up her legs as she pressed her bare foot to the jagged iron step. Her neck craned and her head lifted. ¡°WHY CAN¡¯T YOU MAKE IT STOP!¡± she screamed to the rooftops. Nobody heard her plea. Nobody came to help. What else was new? Something would soon split her skull and be birthed from her head. She was certain of it. Eyes bulged with the pain of an explosive force as a purplish ghastly glow of violet interlaced with dark scribbles. Scratches and cuts laced her nearly bald head, which ached as if a barber just shaved the skin straight off. Pulling out her hair hadn¡¯t helped, not even for a second. But she had to try something, right? Trembling, cold, dying, alone, and breaking, Circe reached for the rusted handle of the truck door. Opened it. Of course, she screamed. She always screamed when her hands or feet stepped into something too new because the resonance of the pain changed. There were no seats when she crawled inside. What kind of nonsense!? She couldn¡¯t even sit down? ¡°Why?!¡± She bit her lower lip to cut her laughing. Bit it hard enough to draw blood, hard enough to leave a scar. It didn¡¯t matter anymore. It didn¡¯t matter anyway. She had always been ugly. This tin can was as good a place as any to die. But she didn¡¯t want to die. Maybe there was something in the... NGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Why did it hurt so much!? Her body doubled over. Circe crumpled as she coughed. Bloody spit pushed past her lips. She tumbled from the passenger cab into the back. Rusted and empty package trays barely clung to the shell, like her soul. Where was her macho, kick-ass, hero now? Nowhere. Roaches poured into the old delivery van as Circe broke into tears. They crawled up her legs, over her fingers, up her arms. They licked at her wounds. She pet them as they passed under her fingers, one after the other; giving them color that couldn¡¯t be seen in the dark made them happy. ¡°Glow in the dark?!¡± Could she make roaches glow in the dark? Why not? It had been done with fireflies. It wouldn¡¯t hurt to try. Pain tackled her mind. Concentrating on anything for too long became impossible when they wouldn¡¯t leave her the FRACK ALONE! These tendrils, tendrils everywhere licking her skin and making it feel like she had no skin! She couldn¡¯t tell an injury if she had one, no pain outshone these tendrils. The inside of the truck bent and curved, blurred and shifted as the pain pulsed and made her eyes snap. Heart raced. Mind snapped. Neck turned. Circe whipped to face her assailant. Nothing stood behind her. She went down on her hands and knees and banged on the rusty tetanus infected floor with her bloody fists. Bits of skin sheared off from sharp gouges. A scream at the top of her lungs reverberated throughout the truck several times. Divergent Divergent Divergent DIEVERGENT! Outside, red and black glowing eyes opened from behind the pillars, on the other side of hardened mounds, behind bookshelves, and from the recently deceased carcass of a bite-bite mite. A forward party approached the well weathered, rusting, and battered vehicle. From a distance Mike cast mage-light and hung it high over the truck. The screaming led to a thud, and then silence. The goblins closest to the truck held up their spears as they listened to gurgling, gasping, broken cries for air. ¡°Blooooody fingers, bloody fingers¡­ oooohhhhh!¡± Circe collapsed on her back and lifted her bloody fingers. The way the blood squelched between the dry and broken skin made her giggle. Maybe she would kick her leg, break it more, all over again, so she could feel the splintering bone bust through her skin. Feel anything besides these tendrils. She began talking to herself. Please don¡¯t do that! I don''t want to kill them all. I think the pain Is too much for me... But she worked so hard to fix that leg. Why won¡¯t anybody help me? I don¡¯t want to do that. So please make the hurting stop. Please Making The Hurt Stop Me. No I don¡¯t think I¡¯m gonna do that. Why won¡¯t anyone help me? Maybe it¡¯s because you did something bad. I hated synogogue and, I never did believe in God, so there''s that. Does everybody really hate me that much? Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. You deserve to hurt! The doors of the back of the truck creaked, groaned, then broke apart. Circe tilted her head. Green men with threatening looking stone spears and halberds greeted her with serious frowns on their ugly faces. They were like her! She couldn¡¯t bring herself to move as roaches scattered out of the truck and around the goblin crew. She squinted at the glow of the mage-light and gasped, yet giggled manically, ¡°Are you here to save me? Please... save... me?¡± Petite, sliced, broken and bloody hands glowing with the power of the half-moon brands on their backs. Tendrils danced as fingers flexed and tightened against the pain of what felt like flayed skin. Back arched with the flickering agony dance, spine popped. Safely across the plain behind a pile of rotting bookshelves protecting a dry mound, the knight and the goblin elder watched. Powerful stalagmites flanked their position as the rear guard formed square formations in the muck. The elder looked upon the knight and his mummified mistress. ¡°Is this the one Azoria marked for death?¡± ¡°It¡¯s her,¡± Michael said, ¡°I¡¯m sure of it.¡± ¡°What shall we do?¡± ¡°Kill her, of course. I require her head.¡± Circe continued to wave hands and flex her fingers with no sense or pattern. The goblins watched, mouths slightly opened, some sniffed and others stepped back. One dropped its weapon and reached inside toward her gently, almost reaching her. A horn blew and an order shouted. ¡°Shalashalat!¡± A whip lashed inside the vehicle to catch both her wrists in mid-sway. Circe giggled as her body flung out of the van and lifted into the air. She hung by her wrists. Feet hung listlessly as blood dripped from her toes. Glowering half-moons on her soles glared at the crew below. A goblin halberd with a sharp stone cutting edge swung for her neck. Circe instinctively swung back, yet it cut deeply through her trachea. Blood sprayed with a gutteral gurgle as she squirmed like a caught fish. The wound clotted and bubbled as tendrils sprouted from her open flesh and carressed the wound before their eyes. Cut hands sliced off their skin to escape the whip. Now she was truely flayed. Exposing muscles and tendons received a hateful caressing from tendrils as she slid from the whip. Her bare feet hit the muck with a sloorp. Eyes rolled to the back of her head as tendrils burst forth from every brand in a brilliance of violet aura. Roaches swirled out of the muck. They jumped off the vehicle onto the goblins. Squirming, purple, toxic, tendrils merged and sealed her neck while forcing her to her feet. Blood pumped into her brain. Heart raced. ¡°Argggreee... Frrrrr.¡± Circe sputtered. They took her voice. They took her voice? Why!? What had she ever done to them? WHAT HAVE I EVER DONE TO YOU!? She tried to scream but couldn¡¯t. Coughs, gasps, and the gags of a monster, a gremlin, escaped her throat. They didn¡¯t give her much time to think about it. The pitch of a horn signaled three goblins to attack together. Another halberd came for her head. She leaned backwards to dodge it. Fight through the pain! I don¡¯t want to die! I don¡¯t care, I don¡¯t want to die! Circe gurgled; her voice crackled like some wicked demonic creature. She hissed at them. Her body twisted away from a spear aimed at her left shoulder. But another spear caught her right side and ripped flesh and organs as it pierced her. Pieces splattered behind her. Tendrils from her chest and leg merged to stop the bleeding as she slid her wound down the wooden handle towards the offending goblin. A hand clutched his neck. At first it felt so soft, but the tendrils gave the grip pain and force. Circe revealed her gaping missing tooth gap as she smiled. ¡°Why?¡± she whispered. The pop echoed as goblin brains sprayed the open doors of the delivery truck. She pulled the spear out of her ventilated side and dropped it. Roaches wound up her limbs to cover her body. The other two goblins recovered and hopped at her. A halberd swung for her chest, but with the aid of the roaches she hopped back out of range. With a silent scream, Circe let a burst of violet energy release from her form. Roaches flew like bullets in every direction. The projectiles sent goblins in attack formation dropping. A goblin in mid-jump became caught in the pulse. It gripped its face as it fell rolling into the muck. The true form of Alteration is Chaos, embrace Chaos, and live. Circe floated not too high from the ground. Her feet hung. Blood dripped from her wounds. Her eyes remained squiggling violet terror. She opened her arms to embrace them all. A rain of spears flew, she weaved through them, dodging, darting, left and right, up and down. None of them touched her. A goblin flew forward with an ax swipe, missing. Another jumped at her with a knife. A tendril slap sent it skidding, rolling, thrashing all the way back to the rear formation. To either side of Circe, roaches melded into towering pillars with a cascade of colors under the mage light. They grew ever thicker. Circled ever faster. Roach golems in a melted mess of colors stepped out. The first goblin to approach became a green gooey splat blending into the muck. Circe clutched at her neck, desperately wanting to speak but unable to form sound. Everything came out in mangled whispers. The tendrils didn¡¯t need her voice to keep feeding, so they never healed it. Not having a voice caused a new form of anguish they found delectable. ¡°Why?¡± she whispered. With the roaches covering her flanks, fewer attacks found her. Still, a goblin whacked her in the face with a big hammer and sent her flying back. Like she needed to lose any more teeth! When it rushed her her for the finishing blow she was already on unsteady feet. An arm reach forward. Tendrils wrapped its neck. The hammer dropped. It asphyxiated while she watched until the legs stopped kicking. Then she threw the corpse aside like some rag doll. Circe returned to floating. ¡°Why?¡± she whispered This time she attacked, grabbed first, felt her fingers squeeze so gently around a green neck. With the intent to kill, she tightened. The mark on the back of her hand glowed brilliantly as the goblin¡¯s head burst open. ¡°Why?¡± she whispered. Another lunged at her with a spear, she sideswiped the attack and came face to face with the goblin. Her ghostly expression made it scream. She clutched its neck. Stared with so many glowing eyes. Its face popped. ¡°Why?¡± she whispered. The two roach golems at her flanks cut through goblin formations. Goblins caught in their fists experienced the shredding of their flesh as it turned into bone and minced meat for the critters to devour. Back on the mound, behind the safety of improvised fortifications, Michael surveyed the battle. His shield and sword remained at the ready as the dried corpse clung to his back. ¡°I think we¡¯re losing, love. Should we join the fight?¡± ¡°Too risky. Call a retreat,¡± Michael said, he looked down to the goblin elder that stared at the scene with mouth agape and tears in his eyes, ¡°We need a plan to deal with those roach golems she summons. Once we have something together, we¡¯ll come back and finish her.¡± ¡°You¡¯re most merciful. I¡¯ll sound the retreat.¡± A horn sounded. Goblins ran in a full-fledged route. The roach golems would not give chase without Circe. A stubborn goblin refused to back down. It made it through the golems and could only attack Circe. It jumped again and again with a stone dagger. She dodged. It landed behind her. The sploosh as it jumped out of the swamp gave it away. She rolled around in the air and kicked with her healthier leg. The goblin registered that the kick felt like nothing, but only for a split second. Pain rocketed through its little body. It dropped the knife, which Circe caught in her palm before it landed. She landed over the creature and sat atop it. The ragged stone dagger became bound by tendrils in both her hands. ¡°Blorababa! Baba!¡± it screamed as tears formed in its eyes. She recognized it. It was the one that had reached out to her. It had looked so sad. But? She started crying, coughed, and gagged in a futile attempt to scream as tears streamed down her bloody cheeks. ¡°Why?¡± she whispered as she raised the dagger and plunged it downward with both hands. She stabbed into the muck several times before she tossed the dagger toward the approaching roaches. No longer sensing danger, the tendrils returned to pain at full blast. Circe collapsed over the goblin to writhe in her never-ending agony. It patted her gently on the back. Then it struggled to lift her limp body gently above the muck. The roaches didn¡¯t attack it, for now. The goblin did his best to lift the taller, broken, woman and keep her on her feet. It started carrying her back toward the wrecked truck. It mimmicked a word in a croaky voice. "Why?" 44. No Rest For The Weary Socks clung to his damp feet. Raw sewage soaked his expensive shoes and the hem of his dress pants. Monsters stomped in the dim light. The phone light absorbed into the cave. The flash light stayed on his belt. A red warning flashed on the phone¡¯s charge meter. Fingers shook over the numbers on the screen, but once again there was no connection. The department might as well have never existed. This wasn¡¯t downtown Hanoi. None of his contacts were reachable, his extensive network of informants built over years of ground work, gone. And now here he was, stepping in runny sewage. Mooooooooooooooooooorrrre! Chien instinctively reached for the grip of the k-59 holstered under the trench coat. Those big white things with ten thousand mouths roared sometimes, other times they moaned disturbingly. They didn¡¯t attack him, so he had no plans to bother them. From what he¡¯d seen they were bottom feeders and only cared about the muck. They could do a better job at cleaning up. Chien squinted into the distance. The shape of a big as a giraffe with eight legs and thirty necks slowly walked in the opposite direction. Shooting one would not produce good results, he thought. A nutrition bar rattled about in his pocket, the one that had slid right to his feet before he left the cave. Putrid air had moistened the box. He broke the cardboard. The smooth sealed package slid in his hand as he tossed the wet paper. He felt for the little divot and tore it open. A bar plopped out, a nice rectangular thin cookie. It lacked taste so completely and perfectly that it had to be a secret. He slowly chewed the cookie while trudging forward. An old delivery truck with flat tires came into view. Strange violet light flickered from the windows. Mushrooms growing around the flat tires glowed a soft yellow. The spiral on the back of his right hand glowed slightly until the spade lit. The shallow pool splooshed under his soaked shoes. [Quest: Kill Order For Circe Oratia Sheffield: Divergent Bookworm] He took a moment to read the order. Eyes narrowed at the glow of the screen. They wanted everyone to gang up on some poor idiot and kill her? Well, he wasn¡¯t a bounty hunter, so none of this was his problem. He¡¯d check the truck for supplies though. Might be a dry place to sleep as well. The driver side door hung open. No seats inside meant no comfortable place to sleep. Plenty of oddly colored roaches scurried about. He remembered seeing them back in Azoria¡¯s cave. Wet fecal mush had been smeared all over the floor. As he climbed toward the storage compartment, the back of a slender bald woman in rags hung suspended by glowing chains. His mouth hung open while he reached for the chain. Half-moon eyes on the back of her hands flashed open with a hostile glow. Chien backed out of the truck and almost fell on his butt outside. The last thing he needed was to bathe in this crap. The K-59 whipped out of the holster as he heard shuffling on the roof of the vehicle. A red goblin glared at him with glowing red eyes. Chien aimed for it, but it didn¡¯t move, only watched. The detective splashed and stomped to the back doors, already slightly ajar, and kicked them open. The ragged woman hung in brilliant violet luminescence shaded by graying tendrils licking every inch of her body. On the floor, a small cup of water stood next to a plate of crumbs. An eye opened on her forehead, beaming. Another opened on her chest. The chains dissipated into dust as the figure stretched forth. Skin ragged, scarred, bloody, and scented of death confronted Chien. Soiled rags clung to the emaciated form. Her head tilted as a smirk twisted and then faded. Circe floated forward. The K-59 clicked slightly as the barrel pressed against her forehead. Quest Target Acquired: Eliminate Target Life was so simple, so easy. Like a video game. Kill this poor npc character and get rewarded. No reason to feel anything. No reason to care. Do the job. Carry the body. Get paid. The gun shook slightly against the half-moon glowering over her forehead. Hands went up in a prayer, slender, petite, yet so utterly broken. Half the skin of her palms and the flesh around her thumbs had been flayed off! Her hands, soft, meaty, bloody, pressed against his and pushed the gun to the mark on her forehead. ¡°I¡¯m dying,¡± she whispered with what creak her scarred throat could manage as she started to cry, ¡°I don¡¯t want to die. But how am I supposed to live?¡± He pressed the barrel to her mark. Her body quivered and she squinted, coughed, and continued holding his hands as she floated. The tendrils flicked at his skin. Chien winced at the burning, tearing, flaying pain that went through his hands and up his arms.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Putting her out of her misery seemed to be the right thing to do. That¡¯s what she wanted, right? But then, he saw her tears. Slowly, he backed away as her form sunk. Scratched knees rested on the rusting floor. Her hands went up toward her face and almost covered it. Back twisted. Her face contorted as her jaw creaked opened until it looked unhinged. Eyes blurred, soft pained hazel glowed as the iris vanished, the pupil lifted away, and left nothing but black squiggles on a violet glow. Circe froze. Chien felt confirmed that this place was hell. And if this was hell, perhaps she deserved this. Fingers pushed back the hammer of the gun. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you did to deserve this, but you must have been one evil witch,¡± he hesitated and pulled the gun away, ¡°You¡¯re not my responsibility.¡± Someone approached. Once he heard the first step and turned, they came out of the showers. Two ladies approached and the gun failed to intimidate them. One of them had a pile of slightly glowing gold coins in her right hand. ¡°Well what do we have here? You trying to steal my prize. No, no, no, we¡¯re not doing that. What do you say Lizbet?¡± The pain ornament glowed in the truck behind Chien as he aimed his weapon. The team stood under a mage light. It was the first time he¡¯d seen anything well lit since he¡¯d left the cave. The woman who spoke had black braided hair and stood just slightly taller than him, while the one wearing tied shirts and a sleeveless top stood slightly shorter. The shorter girl had tattoos. A sleeve of flowing skulls covered her right arm from the elbow to her slender shoulder. ¡°I say this one should step aside and put that piece away if he values his life. We didn''t come to this stink hole for no reason. He¡¯s more than welcome to watch us work.¡± Chien frowned and stared over his gun and walked backwards to get himself out of the way, ¡°I have no interest in the girl or the prize.¡± They didn¡¯t know who he was or what his powers were, but he hadn¡¯t been around to hear their names either. Fighting had no predictable outcome. He put the gun away as he walked back into the shadows to observe the end of this dying girl. Without the piece, he¡¯d be better able to use his real powers if he needed them. Though they were barely even tested. Besides, he wanted to look up Lizbet. The thicker woman approached the rear door first. He watched. Janele reached for the figure sitting on her knees at the rear exit. The skittering series of candy roaches didn¡¯t register as a threat while she grabbed Circe by the wrist and lifted her arm. A harsh ragged whisper escaped he wounded woman¡¯s parched lips. ¡°I don¡¯t want anyone to die...¡± Janele laughed as she stretched Circe¡¯s arm upwards until she heard the shoulder pop, ¡°I think this log is perfect for training.¡± A loud stomping from the roof of the vehicle caused them to glance upward. A red goblin jumped over their heads. It landed behind them, bare feet splashed as it touched down with the stone dagger in its right hand. ¡°Stava! Stava! Stava! Bleaufergut debilboap!¡± The goblin charged at Lizbet, who clutched the coins in one hand. In her left hand a twirling pen appeared between her fingers. ¡°I¡¯ve been itching for a chance to use this.¡±
Skill Description
Capture Via Contract Novice 01: Can force a non-contestant being into a contract without their consent once a month if their overall level is less than half of yours.
She tossed the pen at the goblin. It flung straight towards him but he dodged it, or so he thought. Ink spewed from the point and formed into a net that lashed over the creature and tangled its limbs. The goblin rolled in the shallow sewage. It flailed about with the dagger atempting to cut the ink net, which restricted until the ink absorbed into its skin. Lizbet laughed, ¡°It worked? It worked! The little guy is under contract!¡± She bounced over to the red goblin, ¡°You just stand here and be a good boy until I give you an order, okay? You¡¯re mine now. I own you.¡±
Skill Description
Contract of Debt Novice 01: Can make one spiritual contract a month. Chains formed via contract are more powerful than verbally formed chains. The power and ability of the chains depend on the wording of the contract. Lenient contracts provide more power but are easier to break. Harsh contracts are difficult to break but give less power.
She gave a little tug on the spiritual chains connecting them, which force the goblin to nod in agreement. Circe glanced back at the cup of clean water and the bowl of crumbs as Janele gripped her arm tightly. The half-moon eyes on her body glowed ever angrily as the tendrils licked. Janele felt a surge of pain up her arm. She responded by grappling the woman with both hands. The full power of Janele¡¯s muscular body sent Circe airborne behind the truck. The goblin watched with a despairing frown. Warm air fouled by bodily waste smacked Circe¡¯s cheek as she flew upward. Floating wouldn¡¯t activate. That power from before barely worked. The tendril pushed out from her skin without catching air. They waved around her body with a soft gray glow. The half-moons glared a violet light at the enemy as Circe stretched out her legs and reached out with her arms. Flailing. Lizbet looked up at her target with a big smirk as golden lucky coins piled in her right hand. ¡°I cast Lucky Coin!¡± 45. Diabolus Ex Machina The half-moon marks eased the pain just enough so she could concentrate. Gold Coins were flying at her face!? Circe instinctively new that these weren¡¯t objects she wanted collect. Her body relaxed as she readied to shift her stance in midair. There was no way she could dodge, but she could still control her limbs. One! Circe tilted her head just in time to save her left eye. The coin flew past, barely scratching her ear. Serrated edges? Two! Sharp edged gold smashed into her hip at high velocity with a crunch. It pushed her upward while causing her to tilt sideways. The resulting wound formed a streak of eviscerated flesh. Her right hand raised to defend her head. She tilted her head and smacked at the coins to divert them. Three! Eyes widened as she watched skin peel from her upper arm just below the wrist. The outer edge of the radius shone with a sanded polish. Four! The radius cracked apart with splinters of bone. Clumps of flesh and muscle flew like rags. Five! More muscle tore as a coin grabbed a clump of flesh and exposed the ulna. A large chunk thick as a coin had been removed from her arm. Six! The ulna shattered apart. Before the wriggling hand could fall hanging the next coin passed through. Seven! The last strand of flesh and muscle holding the limb together severed. Instead of blood, tendrils flowed from both sides of the open wound. Circe grabbed her severed right hand with her left before it could fall without realizing that the tendrils from both sides already joined. Eight, Nine, Ten! Circe spat blood as her lungs exploded. The coins smashed through her rib cage. Rib shards intertwined with her lungs. Chunks of flesh led the coins as they burst out through her back. Circe¡¯s mouth hung open. The half-moon marks continued to glow as they held the body together. Tendrils jumped out from the mark over her heart. They coiled into the gaping wounds in the woman¡¯s chest. Circe didn¡¯t feel as much pain as the half-moons shifted from feeding to preserving their host. She could see Lizbet¡¯s look of anticipation as- Eleven! Roaches spewed from the now useless splint as it absorbed the blow of an errant coin and came loose with a swarm of multi-colored roaches that raised their wings to slow their descent. Twelve! Her right shoulder took a coin which lodged into the bones and sent the stub of her right arm out in protest. After the hit, her arm hung limply as the coin disappeared inside of her. I don¡¯t want to die. I don¡¯t want to die. I don¡¯t want to die! Thirteen! The coin went though the ragged scar on her throat to smack against her spinal cord. The spray of blood and flesh rained excessively before her body hit the pool. It rolled into the muck limply before sinking after a pathetic skid. A small bubble rose from the sludge. Some tendrils grasped out of the thick water. The glowing receded under so much filth. Lizbet jumped into the air, ¡°We did it! We did it! She¡¯s dead, dead, dead! Want to practice on her? Want to cast revive?¡± Janele held out an arm, but she couldn¡¯t sense a recently dead body, ¡°She¡¯s not reviving, maybe you killed her too good?¡± Chien shook. The foul musty air encouraged a cough he couldn¡¯t suppress. A creaking sound mixed with a barely audible series of skittering clicks came from behind Janele. Chien turned his head slightly to the left. ¡°What the truck!?¡± Rotted rubber dripped. Rusted suspensions creaked as the weight of the wheels pulled them down. A swirling multi-colored pedestal became a black blur. Janele glanced back in time to see the left rear wheel axis crumble. The entire assembly splashed into the muck.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. The swirling tornado divided into two parts that separated to form thick legs. Roaches skittered over one another from the window until the golem grew arms. A flat gloss of roaches resembling an oil slick crawled over the ceiling. The forming monstrosity bulked, legs became taller and arms became thicker. Though it barely moved as the rainbow roaches worked to stabilize its form, it reached a height halfway to the cave¡¯s ceiling. The goblin joined Lizbet and took a defensive stance as the golem clicked and creaked to life. A rainbow fist arched back and aimed at Janele. She jumped backwards, easily avoiding it and gaining distance from the still slow and cumbersome creature. Each step from the golem reverberated with impact even in the muffled cave. Lizbet watched, then took a slow step back. That¡¯s when she felt something caressing her ankle. She tried to move more forcefully and felt two hands clasp under the muck. The hairless, bloody, broken, roach covered creature dripping in the cave muck with glaring eyes all over its body lapped tendrils that exposed Lizbet to a portion of pain. A high pitch scream pushed through the soggy cave as Lizbet kicked her leg to try and force the creature off. It bit her calf. ¡°I cast Chains of Debt!¡± Nothing happened. ¡°I cast Lucky¡­¡± Lizbet realized that because the creature wasn¡¯t dead her skill was on cool down, so she kicked harder. The creature scurried up her back like an insect. It grappled the back of her neck with its left hand. The right floated in front of Lizbet¡¯s face. Bloody fingers flexed. A coiled chain of shadowy tendrils kept the severed limb roped to the arm. ¡°Idiot! Get her off me!¡± The goblin jumped on Lizbet¡¯s shoulders to kick her off, but Circe jumped back. ¡°Forty seconds,¡± Circe whispered as she skidded into the muck. Her severed hand flailed about as she turned to face Janele¡¯s attack. ¡°Ngghhhhhaaaaaaaaa!¡± Janele had closed the distance with the roach golem plodding behind her. A kick swirled for Circe¡¯s face. Circe ran backward with little difficulty, using both her legs. Janele¡¯s blade swung for her neck. She arced back and let the blade swing by. A punch followed from the left. Circe weaved, tilted her head, and swerved to the side. When fighting for survival the pain wasn¡¯t as bad. ¡°The pain is less!¡± she croaked gleefully ¡°I can¡¯t use Lucky Coin! It¡¯s on cool down!¡± Lizbet shouted. Janele pushed against Circe, ¡°I¡¯m gonna kill this little gremlin if it¡¯s the last thing I do!¡± The blade turned in her outstretched hand and swiped for her neck from the other direction. It swung like a pendulum as Janele flipped the knife at the far end of her swing and went for Circe¡¯s neck from the opposite direction. A twisted grin raised as Janele¡¯s swings got ever closer to soft, jaggedly scarred, neck meat. But the golem closed in from behind. Another feint with her left fist followed a swipe. Circe dodged the fist and turned to expose her side. She stretched out her body, which raised her neck and exposed more flesh. Janele twirled but Circe went underneath the attack, grabbed her severed hand to pull it apart from the tendrils, and used the sharp end of the broken ulna as a dagger. Two lines of burning slicing pain ran diagonally across Janele¡¯s waist as the severed bone shiv cut deeply. Circe rolled behind her opponent and came back up above the swirling liquids still holding her severed hand as a weapon. She wheezed, gasped, as the wounds in her lungs reopened and took in infectious liquids. Lizbet refreshed her mage light, then chided the goblin, ¡°What are you waiting for!? Go kill her!¡± Janele took a few steps back as she glanced at the blood dripping from her ripped shirt. Her fingers clenched upon her knife as the Circe stumbled and turned to face her. ¡°I¡¯ll kill them all, all, kill all, them all. Kill them all?¡± she croaked in a scratchy whispering voice that barely registered even to Janele¡¯s keen ear. Janele narrowed her eyes. That scar. Hadn¡¯t a coin hit there? Maybe she couldn¡¯t speak. This gremlin had to be nearly dead, just a little more. The beeping of a truck interrupted Janele¡¯s thoughts. Fully formed, the roach golem moved faster. Instead of lumber forward, it rushed for Janele. Flesh from her belly wound pulled apart as Janele jumped backwards to dodge a punch. A hand went against the wound and felt the small spurts of blood from the laceration. The goblin rushed at Circe, only to get smacked backwards into Lizbet so hard they both tumbled into the pool. Chien aimed his gun at Circe and fired. A bullet struck into her stomach, another missed, the third lodged into her chest before the golem scooped her up and the body flowed into the conglomeration of roaches. With the body under the cover of the swarm, tendrils began to appear amidst the colors that could only be seen when the golem approached the mage light. A pained screech flowed from the confluence of roaches as it began to move erratically. Lizbet picked up her red goblin and ran with it in her arm. As Janele felt the stretching and bleeding of her wound, she decided to run as well. They ran past Chien as he stood aiming his gun at the golem. He decided to run as well while the Golem stormed off in the opposite direction. 46. Normal People Like Me, Ya Know. Those cave lights continued to pound his eyes. He¡¯d slept a few hours, but no more. Hands rested on his chest. Fingers flexed up and down while twiddling his thumbs to make a shape like a spider. The old man in the hempen robe joined them uninvited a while ago, but had hopeful words at the very least. Ya know, sometimes that¡¯s all yah needed, a hopeful word. The sage looking fella, as Alfredo thought, sat in deep meditation over there. Loud snoring from Ebony annoyed him. She slept on her back over the flat stone floor, out more soundly than the rock she was laying on. His thick hand pushed on the cool stone as he got up. He looked for a watch, dug for his phone. Circe had dropped hers again. It still laid nearby but Alfredo didn¡¯t want to be bothered with it. The devices were dead weight here. The base of his palm pressed his temple. A quick look around showed that the cave was emptied out. The ¡®Honorary Demonians¡¯ were mostly gone. How much time had passed? It was so hard to keep track of time in this crazy place. How much time was left until they could use the portals? Circe had used a portal, or had she? It was kind of hard to tell with everything happening so fast and all. Maybe by the time Ebony woke up, they could get going. Darn, his head hurt so bad. His heart hurt. He glanced at Circe¡¯s phone and wiped his eyes. He turned to the meditating old man. If the guy was going to be sitting right near them, then he might as well talk to them. Maybe he knew something? Maybe. ¡°Hey, old fella. Why yuh hangin¡¯ out wit us? We¡¯re a couple of nobodies. The doctor can¡¯t even stay awake, an I only got one thing that seems kinda basic. Not gonna lie. Our odds ain¡¯t good.¡± Kunchen maintained his stance, ¡°I¡¯m here to help your friend survive, the one who threatened Mogg itself.¡± Alfredo stood up, ¡°Well let¡¯s go then if that¡¯s what yuh want. It¡¯s pretty much what I want too! I doubt she¡¯s gonna last too long on her own.¡± Thick calloused fingers ran through his jet-black hair. Kunchen refused to budge in that fancy yoga stance of his. The eye on Kunchen¡¯s forehead remained open. What did they call it, a half-moon mark. Looked more like an eye to him, not really like a moon. But what did he know, he was an idiot. It burned all purply like. Kunchen paid it no mind. Old guy was tough as nails and Alfredo kind of liked that. The others who got that mark wouldn¡¯t stop crying or kicking around like babies. Right now, they looked okay. But they weren¡¯t all glowy like either. And by that he meant nobody screamed and cried their head off. ¡°Ain¡¯t yuh gonna say nothin¡¯?¡± Kunchen didn¡¯t budge. His stance remained calm and his breathing deliberately controlled. Alfredo picked up Circe¡¯s broken phone. ¡°If yuh ain¡¯t even gonna say nothin¡¯, then what are yuh good for?¡± The meditative stance broke as Kunchen swiped his finger in the air. Once the screen displayed, he willed it to face Alfredo. Kunchen Sage
Skill Description
Spiritual Wall Master 99: Creates a barrier that only creatures with a balanced spirit can pass. It is impenetrable to all others. The barrier can be extended by one kilometer cubed.
Meditation Master 99: Nothing can disturb your meditation unless you allow it. When in a meditative state you are invulnerable to harm. Spells can be cast during meditation.
Purification Ritual Master 99: A brief ritual that purifies spiritual imbalances and aligns the spiritual energy of the user. Provides a 3000 percent stat boost in five chosen stats for five hours.
Chakra Healing Master 99: Can heal all your wounds within seconds regardless of severity up to ten times a day. Can regrow your lost limbs. If your head is taken off it can be reattached and healed perfectly.
Passive Description
Survivor Master 99: You can thrive on 400 calories a day so long as you meditate. You are immune to poison. You require no more than one cup of water a day to stay well hydrated. You do not suffer from vitamin deficiencies.
Cheating Death Master 99: Wounds that would be instantly fatal for others are not instantly fatal for you. Separated limbs and body parts will remain ambulatory for one hour.
Curse Description
Half Moon Brand: Forehead: You refused to make a choice and are marked as a traitor against Azoria. The mark will bring pain and feed on it. You will never have rest. However, service to your Lord may abate your pain.
Pacifist 01: You are unable to intentionally cause harm to any living thing. You are unable to intentionally put any living creature at risk of harm through your actions.
Shsshss Hs Shsh Hssz 01: Shhs sthts hss hshshshhz hsss shsshsh shss hzh. Sshz shszh hz shsshs sh hsshs shsshzshssz.
Heart Of Stone 01: A never beating reminder that you don¡¯t belong in this world. You can never be a servant of Azoria or an honorary demonian. The half-moon mark is your only path.
Vital Statistics # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat #
Perception 333 Sight 91 Hearing 89 Touch 76 Awareness 543 Spiritual 498 Nil Nil
Strength 89 Arms 99 Legs 99 Torso 99 Back 57 Grip 99 Nil Nil
Toughness 346 Blunt 162 Slice 103 Pressure 678 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Stamina 410 Heart 999 Lungs 234 Arms 311 Legs 321 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Speed 163 Swim 67 Swing 79 Run 77 Think 331 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Agility 38 Arms 39 Legs 47 Torso 40 Back 33 Fingers 13 Nil Nil
Fortitude 999 Magic Def 999 Mental Def 999 Stability 999 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Intelligence 173 Emotional 123 Scientific 55 Spiritual 341 Interpersonal 101 Bestial 222 Creative 157
Magic 99 Fire 99 Ice 99 Water 99 Wind 99 Earth 99 Nil Nil
Spirit 99 Restoration 99 Illusion 99 Life 99 Dark 99 Light 99 Resistance 99
Luck 20 Money 01 Combat 12 Magic 43 Relational 13 Nil Nil Nil Nil
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Alfredo took a moment to look over the skill set and the statistics as he rubbed the lines over his neck. He didn¡¯t look long enough to read everything. The details were skimmed over until he lost interest, then he shrugged. ¡°So, you¡¯re some big shot. I supposed to be impressed wit yuh are somethin¡¯? You¡¯re not really any big deal unless yuh can get us out of this stupid cave and help her.¡± Snoring continued as Alfredo waited for an answer and received nothing further. He stepped away but the old man grunted. ¡°They¡¯ll let us know when we can pass. Most likely you¡¯ll be able to go ahead before me. You should go back to sleep, conserve your energy. Tiring yourself out with worry won¡¯t save her.¡± ¡°Can you ummm, stay wit tuh doctor if she don¡¯t wake up?¡± ¡°I can do so, are you considering heading out after her alone?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Hands went in his pockets as he stared at the bones near the stage. The ends had been nibbled all like someone chewed them with a pencil. He remembered this girl he liked back in high school, kind of cute and skinny like Circe. She had a bad habit of chewing her pencils like that. None of them had erasers after her first day with them. Eyelids squinted at the sight of a blood stain being explored by a red roach and a yellow roach. Just how many roaches had she colorized? The Azoria tour guides stood attentively at the far end of the cave. Whatever number took him to Circe¡¯s location was unknown. The large party with the cop had asked the tour guide something. They were going for Circe from what he¡¯d heard. They probably asked what portal to use. It was a mission after all. Too bad he hadn¡¯t been paying more attention. Dead though. He didn¡¯t want to believe it. He¡¯d been about to go berserk when that old man came and talked him down. Told him Circe was still alive. That this was all some big fake news that Azoria was putting out there as part of the game. If Circe was dead, why put the bounty on her? There hadn¡¯t been a bounty put on anyone else who got a death listing. And Circe¡¯s name and stuff hadn¡¯t been grayed out. A finger swiped through the air as he pulled up Kunchen¡¯s information. The guy had stats stacked against the wall and a range of powers, but he couldn¡¯t hurt nobody or nothing. How was he going to fight if he couldn¡¯t hurt nothing? That curse took all this old man¡¯s skills and threw them in the garbage like last weeks chili-dog. Between himself, Ebony, and Kunchen could he even come up with a plan to save Circe? Nobody here told him what to do. How was he supposed to function if nobody told him what to do!? Sit and wait, that¡¯s what he would do. But not here! His leg bent as he reached to heft Ebony onto his back and give her a lift. ¡°Don¡¯t mind me. I¡¯m gonna wait by tuh exits. Shouldn¡¯t be long before our turn to leave gets called. And I want to be on my way as soon as they call it.¡± Kunchen opened an eye, ¡°I thought you said you¡¯d leave the doctor with me.¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, I did say somethin¡¯ like that didn¡¯t I?¡± The sleeping woman gently slid off his back and he made sure to lay her head down carefully, so she wouldn¡¯t get hurt in her sleep. ¡°Don¡¯t let anything happen to her, she¡¯s a nice lady. Doesn¡¯t deserve tuh be in a place like this, that¡¯s for sure.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll make sure she¡¯s unharmed while she sleeps, though I doubt this cave has any real dangers now that most of the people have left.¡± A hand waved the old man off as he walked away toward the portal exits. A few interesting characters were lined up at the various doors waiting for the announcement that they could leave. Since he couldn¡¯t see not one of them ¡®Honorary Demonian¡¯ anywhere, Alfredo figured that soon their numbers would be called. A girl with long black hair wore a pink dress that looked weathered and burnt. She kinda looked like this girl from that creepy horror movie that scared him half witless a year or two ago. What was that movie called again Oh right, Well Child. Why¡¯d the cave have to be so full of freaks, psychos, and weirdos? Why couldn¡¯t there be more normal people like him, ya know? 47. Sub-Demonians A group of people waited by the portal doors. Alfredo attempted to count them. If he concentrated hard and went slowly, then, after a few attempts, he became distracted and double checked his count. Pointing at people to keep track caused him to receive suspicious looks. He counted about thirty-eight people on his third attempt without pointing or making overly obvious eye contact. If he added Kunchen, Ebony, and about seven or so others he could see when he scanned the cave, then that meant there were at least forty-six people with either the collar or the half-moon mark. So, the vast majority of the people really choose to be Azoria¡¯s minions, he thought, and that despite everything they saw. There were a few people he took greater notice of. Darrone¡¯s glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he sat with his hands on his knees and his head hanging down in a half sleep. A short, petite woman in slightly oversized clothes slept with her head resting on his shoulder. Alfredo tried not to stare at the small woman¡¯s stocking clad feet, but he couldn¡¯t help but raise an eyebrow. The mark of the half-moon formed a burn scar that resembled a closed eye on the center of her forehead. Yellow and brown stains caked the baseball player¡¯s pants. A crusty brown stain ran over his collar and down his shirt next to the dark red splotches from his shoulder. He sat by himself with the baseball bat under his legs. His knees pushed up as his arms rested on them. Due to the smell, the others kept a degree of separation. The half-moon mark remained dormant over the center of his forehead. A pill bottle rolled around in his fingers so the small collection of large pills clattered inside. A box of nutrition bar made an impression in his pocket. He stared between his legs while muttering fearful whispers to himself. Those who had the half-moon mark look pallid, ashen. Their eyes hung darkly with heavy circles. It had made their posture tense and their voices whimpering as they clutched onto pill bottles. Alfredo could only think about Circe. He¡¯d been knocked aside by Azoria like he was nothing while the lady received six of those disgusting marks. Had she gotten pills too? Was she okay. He pushed fingers through his jet-black hair. It felt like he had a granddaughter. A woman with flaming hair leaned against the cave wall with her arms around her chest. She looked towards the floor with a scowl. Her hair looked like flames. Alfredo did a doubletake for the third time upon checking her out. The young woman had smooth dark bronzed skin. But her hair rose from her scalp. It waved. It burned. Blue, orange, and yellow flames danced about her ears and over top of her head in place of her hair. The yellow bandeau had a flame logo with some writing that Alfredo couldn¡¯t possibly read. He narrowed his eyes slightly but that caught her attention and she glanced his way with a frown. Those muscular arms and those abs spoke all sorts of danger. The slave collar tattoo wove darkly about a neck slightly thick for a lady. Okay, she had they slave collar. Everyone left here had the slave collar or the half-moon mark, Alfredo thought. That meant they could be trusted. They¡¯d either opposed Azoria or refused to decide. These misfits, they were a bit like him after all. They were the good guys. But wow, he thought, that lady with the flame hair looked like she could toss a piano into a third story window and she didn¡¯t have a bad rack on her either. Alfredo shook his head. The real question he had to ask himself was, could any of these people help him save Circe if that was still possible. The Azoria tour guide flickered slightly as he approached her. It shocked him, but nobody else reacted. ¡°Hey, umm, demon boss lady, do yuh know how long it¡¯ll be till we¡¯re allowed to leave?¡± Azoria adjusted her cap, flickered, and that¡¯s when he noticed the bleeding holes through the center of her hands. The blood actually pooled on the floor. Alfredo squatted down and dipped his finger in it, though he wasn¡¯t sure why. He swirled the blood around on his thumb and forefinger and sniffed. This wasn¡¯t a hallucination, or if it was it was a really good one! In this place it became hard to tell. ¡°Hey, umm, demon boss lady, are yuh gonna answer my question or do we just haveta wait?¡±The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. The Azoria looked at him patiently, flickered, and smiled. She put a hand out indicating the specific door she guarded, number three. ¡°The doors will open for the Sub-Demonian classes, the slave and the tortured respectively, in four hours, ten minutes, and twenty-three seconds. Please feel free to relax and enjoy our amenities while you wait. Being well rested, hydrated, and fed, is highly recommended before entering the dungeon. Slave and tortured classes will not receive a complimentary mint.¡± ¡°Right, I guess I¡¯ll take a nap or something.¡± The Azoria clone smiled politely despite dripping blood from wounds through both her hands. Alfredo, feeling a bit more alert, walked towards door number two. The Azoria standing guard smiled at him politely while clasping her hands against each other in front of her skirt. Blood dripped to the floor from a wound through the center of those hands. Another woman in a pink dress stood in front of door number two. Water dripped from the folds of her dress but Alfredo had no idea where it could possibly come from. Her dress didn¡¯t look wet. The pink frills frayed at the end with burnt fabric. Long black hair hung down in a trail over the front of the pink garment and hid her face. The skin of her hands bloated pale. He heard sobbing from behind the hair. It didn¡¯t intimidate him because she had the slave strings weaving around her neck where he could see past the hair. She was part of the resistance, a certified member of the ILA union. ¡°Hey, yuh wouldn¡¯t happen tuh know a way to get outta here. I have a friend on the other side who¡¯s in trouble and I can¡¯t wait for these doors to open, ya know?¡± Linh didn¡¯t bother to part her hair even look at him, but he did hear the sobbing subside slightly followed by a distressed voice, ¡°If I knew a way I¡¯d have already left. I¡¯m cursed to be a danger to the man I love. Here¡¯s here. He died too. I wanted to see him. But my curse would have me kill him. Nobody here cares, nobody here listens. I¡¯m stuck standing here, so tired, desperately waiting to run from my love.¡± Alfredo stood, he looked down at his feet, then up at the ceiling, ¡°Alright then, I¡¯ll leave you to it.¡± A slender hand reached out and pressed his shoulder, ¡°Do you fear me?¡± Shoulders shrugged, ¡°Horror movies never did it for me. Real life has enough to be afraid of if yuh know what I mean.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not Well Child! My name is Linh Hoa! Linh Hoa, do you hear me. I¡¯m not Well Child!¡± Alfredo put a hand on her shoulder, ¡°Okay there, you¡¯re not Well Child. Anyone with the guts to raise her fist against Azoria is okay in my book. You¡¯re not a monster.¡± The water dripping from under the dress subsided as her hair parted to reveal a pleading brown eye. Her body leaned against him as their eyes met. They realized they were touching each other¡¯s shoulders. He could see her pale cold lips blow some wet looking hair forward. ¡°I just want to be human again,¡± she whispered. Suddenly she jumped against him. Her body felt oddly cold and moist. A suffocatingly heavy atmosphere surrounded her that made it difficult to breath. Alfredo endured it to give her a pat on the back. He felt her small body press against him with a weight that was like slabs of bricks piled on a wooden board. If this woman got any heavier, he felt like the air would rush out of his lungs and never go back in. The feeling made him choke as he felt hair in his throat. ¡°Lady,¡± he gasped, ¡°Your powers gonna kill me!¡± Linh jumped back; her hands went to her face. Fingers separated strands of black hair so her eye could see through. Coughing and gagging struck Alfredo as he doubled over. Bright red covered his face as he cupped his hand and violently coughed until a hunk of bloody black hair splattered over his palms. He took a few steps back, cleared his throat with powerful coughs, and clenched the mass of bloody glass laced hair in his hand. ¡°Got one of them curses?¡± Linh nodded, put her hands to her face, and resumed sobbing. Alfredo gulped. His throat had become sore and tasted of iron. ¡°The closer I am to my love, the worse it becomes. But it should get better once we leave this chamber.¡± ¡°I guess we¡¯ll see about that. So, your name is Linh, eh? Look, as long as you¡¯re careful about not killing me, ya wanna help me out? I got a friend to save.¡± A clear brown eye continued to peer at him through outstretched fingers and separated inky black hair. It twinkled a little at the older heavy-set man with the pot gut. He had a nice head of dark hair that gave him an aura of mystery. A step forward halted by his hand gesture. Pale lips pursed in frustration as her body trembled. Hands tugged at her hair. ¡°Please let me help you! I¡¯ll try not cause trouble and will stay clear if my curse activates!¡± Alfredo flashed her a smile and gave her a thumbs up, ¡°Since we gotta wait around for the next four hours, I¡¯m gonna go back to my group. The old man¡¯s pretty powerful, maybe he¡¯ll have some idea how tuh fix your curse problem or something like that, ya know? And the woman is a doctor, really smart too, just gotta sleep a lot because that¡¯s her curse.¡± Linh pulled at her inky wet hair; her body tensed as her knees shook. She leaned forward. One visible eye looked as if it was about to drip tears. ¡°Yes, let¡¯s go! Thank you so much!¡± 48. Drip... The screeching roach golem stomped through the mush. It picked up a bite-bite-mite that wandered in front of it and tossed it against a fecal stalagmite. A long-winded whine of protest escaped from the dozens of toothy maws extending from the giant insect. The creature shakily pushed back up on it¡¯s eight long legs and began feeding from the floor while the roach golem splashed onward. The broken delivery truck at its center groaned with the sound of rusty metallic brake friction. The panoramic roaches spat Circe onto the roof of the truck. The golem ran forward through the caverns as every bump and jostle rubbed Circe against the rusty roof. Her body bounced up and down like a marble as she heaved and spat. One hand pressed to try and stabilize herself, but her other hung on by a thread of spirit tendrils. The flesh had been chunked out of her arm so thick and jaggedly that the tendrils weren¡¯t reattaching or closing it. She coughed as her body bounced around. Then she finally gave up trying to hold onto the roof with one scratched and flayed hand. The pain was so much that she curled, then went limp with her mouth forced open. She needed to get the pain under control, but the constant bouncing destroyed her concentration. All she could think to do was let the brown roaches crawl into her hands and get a color upgrade. A silent laugh escaped a throat with eviscerated vocal cords. They¡¯d taken everything from her. Sure, her life had been bad, but it wasn¡¯t this bad. She wanted to go home. Her dehydrated eyes could barely open and yet she still cried. Why should she have to die here in this place? What would be waiting for her on the other side? Could she finally rest in peace? But she didn¡¯t want to die. She wanted to live. Her twisted body bounced up and down. The back of her nearly bald head with its abused scalp smacked the rusty ceiling panel. If she fell into the jagged hole of the roof the sharp metal would likely lacerate her wide open. The roach golem disintegrated. The great monster sloshed and sunk as roaches fell back into the ankle-deep slush or flew away from the body. The truck rolled forward on three tires until it hit a stalagmite. Glass flew in dirty shards from the front windows as Circe¡¯s body smacked into a cave wall and then fell face first into a soft pile of mushrooms growing in muddy soil. The roaches didn¡¯t abandon her. A wall that looked like moving candy rose in front of her culvert. Circe tried to get onto all fours. Somehow, she managed it. Her stomach hurt like a tiger clawed her from the inside. Her arms and legs burned. Her head felt like it was on fire, in a vice, and being flayed alive at the same time. The pain had eased when she fought for her life. Useless! Fighting for her life cost her limbs. Her right hand now severed from her body, hair torn out, lungs punctured, throat torn open, nose bashed in, tooth knocked out, and skin flayed from her hands. Anymore fighting for her life, running for her life, and she wouldn''t have a life to fight for! The roaches had done so much for her, but she practically looked like one of them at this point. One more roach needed a glamour increase. Maybe green wasn¡¯t a creative color, but Circe decided she liked green for this little lady. [Skill Level Increase]
Skill Description
Alteration Properties Novice 25 Can change coloration of another subject¡¯s body as desired twice daily. Must make physical contact with target for thirty seconds to take effect. The change will register over a period of twenty minutes or longer depending on mana consumed and severity of the change.
[New Sub-Skill Acquired]
Skill Description
Alteration Properties Novice 01 Once a day, you can apply a minor change to the physical properties of a living being that applies a permanent one percent buff or debuff of a chosen statistical property.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Must make physical contact with target for one minute to take effect. The change will register over a period of twenty minutes or longer depending on mana consumed and severity of the change.
Something broke, it felt like a tight seal wrapping her body tore. Circe felt the pain subside. It still hurt badly everywhere, but instead of consuming her, it felt more like when her body had burned before she attacked Azoria. A rearview mirror broke from the metal support and swung down. It swayed as it barely held onto the truck. Circe saw her face and gasped. Now the torn flesh of her bloody fingers covered it. It wasn¡¯t recognizable in a mirror as anything but a hideously broken zombie. ¡°Nobody will ever love me,¡± she cried, ¡°I might as well just die.¡± She sobbed for a few moments, then got her thoughts together. She could think again. Circe rolled onto her side and then onto her back over the mushrooms. A spiritual tendril rose from the back of her severed right hand. The fingers still moved, though if she wanted, she could pull it out of the collection of tendrils, just as she did with that lady who attacked her earlier. But removing it might hurt the chances of the tendrils healing it. Instead, she used her left hand to pinch at the half-moon tendril from her right. To her surprise, she caught it! It squirmed between her fingers and couldn¡¯t get back into the glowing brand! Fingers pinched it shakily but managed to hold the tendril despite it wiggling and slithering to get out of her grip. I¡¯m going to practice my skill by de-buffing these troublemakers, she thought. A voice whispered in her head, but she couldn¡¯t understand it. Images raced through her mind. Her severed hand, her punctured lung, her broken body barely holding together, a leg that still needed time to heal, dehydration, hunger. Need shhhhhhh us you. If the tendrils stopped working on her body, Circe knew she would literally fall apart. They were stuck together. With a defeated sigh she released the tendril of her hand. She raised a broken right hand connected more by these tendrils than her own flesh to her forehead. Slowly she rubbed the mark, enduring the pain it jolted into her head. This was nothing compared to what she¡¯d been through when she might die soon anyway. Her fingers caught the glowing spiritual tendril based in the brand on her forehead. They pulled it upwards as it stretched and pulled back until her palm clutched the thing. ¡°You¡¯re in charge of the others,¡± she coughed. Her fist trembled as she gripped with all her might and held the tendril until certain more than a minute had passed. The roaches swirled around at the wall and made a rather irritating shuffling noise. The green roach crawled in her mouth because she wasn¡¯t thinking to close it and she had to wait for it to crawl back out over her missing tooth. The pinching edges of those legs distracted enough from the ever-present pain to feel good. She slowly pinched the thorax of the insect and raised it above her face. The shade of evergreen she¡¯d used was different and it had a purple leg. She squinted hard enough to see it by the dim yellow light of the glowing mushrooms. Legs flailed about as she poured some mana into it, then she put what remained of the green roach into her pocket. [Glitch Detected: Infinite Spiritual Resistance] ¡°Ooooohhh for freaks sake not this again,¡± she croaked, ¡°can¡¯t you let me have one thing!?¡± Her stomach rumbled. The pain of these marks interfered with her sense of hunger and thirst. It didn¡¯t help that she couldn¡¯t keep food down. How smart were these tendrils? How many of them were there? Circe tried to stand up but her legs trembled and her arms flailed now that her adrenaline stopped flowing. Dry mouth hung open. A drop of clean water fell into it. The shock made her eyes opened. The roaches had formed a cylinder and were pulling water from the cave, directing it into her mouth. Circe never thought that water on her tongue, just a few drops, would feel so good. Nobody deserves to live, she thought, life is for the strong. Life is for the persistent. How long would she stand here with her mouth open to gather water? Until she no longer felt so dry? [Glitch Patched: Infinite Spiritual Resistance Nullified] Here we go again. The tendrils extended gleefully to wrap her skin in the most glorious pain she could possibly imagine. Her body collapsed onto the mushrooms as her mouth remained open. Legs and arms stretched and tensed. Circe put the wrist of her severed hand into her mouth and bit down as hard as she could to endure the surge. Drip... A drop of water smacked into the bridge of her broken nose. She squinted and huffed but didn¡¯t have the concentration to move her arms against the pain. Drip¡­ A drop of water smacked against the bridge of her broken nose. This could prove to be a problem if it kept happening. Drip... The sensations over her body magnified her deep annoyance. Her body flailed slightly but failed to move out of the way. The face became red with tension. Drip... Circe released a long croak in an attempt to scream through shattered vocal cords. Drip... [Spiritual Resistance: 999] Drip... 49. Were Never Not Dying Drip... The roaches moved away from that spot on the ceiling but the water wouldn¡¯t redirect. Water drops splashed on the bridge of her nose. They ran down her scratched cheeks into the mud that grew the glowing mushrooms. Circe found it easier to count the drips rather than try and move away. She couldn¡¯t move. Time¡¯s passage slowed to a crawl. Limbs stiffened. Heart struggled to beat. A lung refused to fill. Tendrils pulled inwards to her mind. This feeling, this food from her frustration, became a unique flavor they longed to probe. Eyes closed. Skin itched. Deep breaths through parched lips raised her chest. A slight hiss escaped the right side of her chest with every inward breath. Her arms were too heavy to scratch or even wipe her face. Her neck wouldn¡¯t even turn to look at the clicking wall of insects protecting her. ¡°Thank you,¡± she managed. Speaking exhausted her further. The dim golden glow of the mushroom caressed the moist wall overgrown with moss. The light gently highlighted the blood stains across her rags. A drop of water splashed against the bridge of Circe¡¯s nose. Her face wrinkled. The foul odor disappeared. A sniff attempt revealed that her smashed nose remained blocked by clots. Her body trembled. Instinctively, she knew that death was the far worse fate in this world. A greater hell awaited her. She wanted to touch her head, to comfort herself, but her heavy arms refused to move. Harsh gurgling whispers in the form of words could still form from her throat. A roach dropped down on her forehead. It would become purple when the time allotment finished. Something, from when sanity had overstretched, had allowed her to realize her power almost instantly, within seconds. But that something no longer worked. She was too busy dying to be insane. Circe remembered her favorite fantasy romances. In those worlds, the heroine found a dashing man with astonishing abilities to partner with. Sometimes he¡¯d save her. Other times she¡¯d save him. They¡¯d overcome the most daunting of challenges, defeat entire empires, slay pirates, squash long held hatred, end entire syndicates, and go off to be together happily. Those were such nice books. However, once the book closed, once the tablet powered off, she found herself back in some dingy caf¨¦ or her cold apartment. Alone. With only the roaches to keep her company. Why did her life in this world have to have so many connections with her past life? Why couldn¡¯t this world be an amazing adventure like her favorite fictions? What was the point of dying and being sent here, to be tortured and die again? ¡°You guys, thank you... but I¡¯m not worth the effort.¡± The breaths didn¡¯t want to go in, even as she heaved. Kathy stood over her with her hands gesturing as she stood knee deep in muck. Eyes closed. Circe found herself back at the library in Battery Park, or something like it. The walls were hazy. The books distorted and pulled out of the shelves. Giant roaches rested on the floor with their antennae flexing. Toilets replaced all the chairs; all of them overflowed with thick brown water. Circe hung upside down from the shelves. Blood pulsed in her head as she watched another version of herself stand across from Kathy with a plunger in her hand. ¡°I have a Master¡¯s Degree in library science. I¡¯m a qualified researcher. All I¡¯ve been doing here is cleaning and putting books away. I¡¯ve been here nearly a year and you won¡¯t let me do anything else!¡± ¡°Sweetie, if I thought you were capable of anything else, you¡¯d be doing it. C¡¯mon, it just needs plunged. There¡¯s no one else here and if I gotta call a plumber cause you refused to help, that¡¯s gonna put us way over budget.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a toilet cleaner! I didn¡¯t get hired as a maid! I¡¯m not your errand girl either! I¡¯m not doing it!¡± ¡°It¡¯s called a job for a reason. How much do you like your job? Because, if you want to make problems, you¡¯re not going to be a good fit for this establishment or many others in this city. Now be a team player and go do your part for our library, kay?¡± Circe glared. ¡°Good. There¡¯s a bucket in the broom closet. After you get it plunged, I want the mess cleaned up. Spotless.¡±This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Splorch! Splorch! Splorch! Splorch! The muck in the library toilet looked so much like the floor of the cavern. The smell returned to her. Circe retched as she pushed the plunger. And finally, after watching herself work ceaselessly for fifteen minutes, the mess went down. Pure nausea. Then, on her hands and knees with the gloves still on her hands and chemicals stinging her eyes, she wiped the tile and the gritty porcelain to a spotless shine. Circe watched her nauseated self. The double leaned back against the sink to admire a near spotless stall from the nightmare she had walked into. A heavyset man with sores on his face stumbled into the restroom. He always slept on the sofa towards the west window. He wore an oversized coat that smelled like whiskey and boiled eggs as he wobbled into the stall she had just cleaned. Drip... The drops fell a bit slower now. That memory was just another among many she wanted to forget. Kathy had used her mercilessly. Kathy deserved to be in this place. What little blood she could muster went to her cheeks. She coughed. Plunging like that had to build up some muscle, so why was her strength capped at one? Eyes opened. The ghostly library of the past merged into this new reality. ¡°It¡¯s all the same, nothing really changed. If you can¡¯t do something, you can¡¯t do it. Nothing¡¯s going to change it. Nothing¡¯s going to make it better. You¡¯ll always be under someone else¡¯s boot. And there¡¯s no prince charming coming to save you.¡± Time to do something about it. Limbs wouldn¡¯t move. Circe forgot she could barely breathe. Even if a prince charming came upon her now, he¡¯d be more inclined to put her out of her misery. This was the reality nobody wanted to face: life¡¯s total merciless unfairness. Nobody wants to hear about the losers. Piles of bones rested in the catacombs under Paris. Millions upon millions of remains of what used to be people. Nobody cared. They were all losers. Once you¡¯re gone, or you¡¯re almost gone, unless you¡¯ve really done something amazing, you¡¯re just another mark to be erased by history. And as the infinite eons pass, even those who left their mark would be erased into the infinite void. Everything eventually became forgotten. And yet she wanted to be the hero. She wanted some time in the sun. She wanted to leave a mark on this world. Instinctively, she knew that if she was strong, capable, powerful, and unbroken these thoughts wouldn¡¯t be needed. Surely this greater hell was paranoia, there couldn¡¯t be a place worse than this. Why did she want to keep living so badly? Why struggle so hard to live, when death would simply come by letting herself relax and fall into that transferring sleep? It wasn¡¯t for friends. Circe hadn¡¯t made a single friend in school. They picked on her relentlessly. In college, she¡¯d kept to herself. At work, her coworkers ignored her unless something wasn¡¯t done. It felt like magnetic repulsion whenever something involved real people, the kind of people not on TV and in books. This world, for one ever so brief moment, felt like a chance to change all of it. She had powers, no matter how ridiculous. She¡¯d thought of ways they might be useful. Alfredo talked to her. Ebony saved her life. Neither of them needed to do that. Now all that effort they put in would be for nothing. She didn¡¯t even know them. If circumstances had allowed, could they have been friends? ¡°I want to make friends like that.¡± For an ever so brief moment Circe had felt victorious. She had felt happy. It had been snatched away so fast and everything she had left taken from her. Now she had nothing. Circe was dying. Heaviness smothered every breath. Her grandmother hadn¡¯t wanted to die either. Circe remembered the dripping tubes in that hospital room. The constant monotone chirp that hummed from the machine every thirty seconds infuriated her. Drip... It was so much like the water dripping on her broken nose. Infuriating. Her grandmother told her parents everything that needed done at her house for her return. As if she¡¯d ever return. Nobody ever wanted to accept death until the last moment. Nothing could save her grandmother. Why should Circe think of herself as any better? And yet she laid back on the mushrooms and struggled to raise a finger. If she could just move an inch, raise a finger, curl a leg, then perhaps there was still hope. What were these useless pain inducing tendrils for if they couldn¡¯t keep her fighting!? ¡°If I die, we¡¯re going together, right? So why not heal me properly?¡± They hissed at her words. At least she heard a hiss in her head. For all she knew, they could have a bunch of eggs inside her. Or she could be already minutes away from being a slithering mass of feral tendrils. How they worked, why they inflicted so much pain, why they held her together when injured, she didn¡¯t really know. But she felt like they needed her as much as she hated and needed them. Oh right, she¡¯d been shot too! Not just the coins, but that guy with the gun. He decided to take shots at her without even knowing what was really going on. Typical. How had she not lost her sanity? Wait. No. Here she was going back to the past and hallucinating scenes, reliving bad memories, this couldn¡¯t be called sanity. What did sanity even look like? Had she ever been sane? They did take her off the medication in college. Wait, somebody sat next to her? Circe pushed her eyes to the left to see black fabric covering a thigh. Looking up, long white hair topped by the right horn. The tip of the tail rubbed gently at Circe¡¯s burning scalp, yet the only reaction she could muster was a slight tension. Azoria¡¯s eyes glowed a gentle red like brake lights, ¡°I really liked that part about the catacombs. Mind if we chat?¡± 50. The Final Selection The contrast could only be all too obvious, Circe thought. That slender, curvy body in a fancy black dress. The clean pale skin and glistening white hair that ran down her back like a smooth avalanche. Those glowing red eyes that defied logic. A perfect face set like a porcelain doll. Azoria sat so close that she could feel the warmth of the demon¡¯s body. Her body defiantly clean to demonstrate that the slop of these caverns couldn¡¯t touch her. The tail continued to stroke torn strands of the remaining hair on Circe¡¯s abrasive scalp. The caress so affectionate that Circe almost lulled herself into the sleep that brings death. Circe squinted, then opened her eyes. Azoria had turned and now leaned over her. That beautiful face, those inviting red eyes, soft pink lips looked upon the battered visage of weakness and death. ¡°I thought I killed you at least.¡± Azoria giggled, ¡°Is that what you thought? You are a spicy one. Is that how you console the utter failure of natural selection you¡¯ve become?¡± ¡°Did you come here to make me feel better?¡± Azoria closed her palms and cupped the water dripping from the ceiling. That¡¯s when Circe noticed the hole running through her hands. The water ran through them before it splashed on the smashed bone and ripped flesh at the bridge of her nose. The water ran pink with blood from the wounds. ¡°You¡¯re not helping,¡± Circe croaked. ¡°I¡¯m helping more than you can ever know. But make no mistakes about my intentions. I¡¯m not your friend. I just want to enjoy a good long game. If my best insect dies early, I¡¯m going to miss out on so much potential. So boooring.¡± ¡°You gave me this pain and smashed my face into a wall. That¡¯s not playing fair. If you keep me alive, I¡¯m going to kill you. Do you hear me? I¡¯m going to kill you. You need to die and I¡¯m going to kill you.¡± Coughing. Sputtering. Tears. Crying. Bleeding. A pain that burst through the chest. Pressure. Wheezing. Everything compressed at once. Circe died. No death announcement came. No notification screens appeared. White hands with holes through the palms, pale as death, clenched above Circe¡¯s open eyes. The woman who had tanked six half-moon brands and made them her own had succumbed to her wounds. The tendrils failed to keep their host alive. Without pain to feed upon they would wither away to nothing within a day or so. Azoria leaned over the corpse, blinked, then shook her head. It had died again, how droll. A frown formed across her pale pink lips as Azoria extended her fingernails into sharp pincers shaped like chop-sticks with needle points. The right lung had been eviscerated. The bullet lodged inside it would need removed. Infectious waste filled the cavity. Azoria plunged her fingernails inside to create a wound that would drain Circe¡¯s lungs. Pus, blood, and waste water drained from Circe¡¯s back onto the mushrooms. As the needle nails retracted, they pulled a nine-millimeter slug. Azoria didn¡¯t bother to close the wound. The tendrils, starved for pain, closed it with their own form. Fingernails retracted back to their slender decorative length, and were painted red this time. Azoria reached forward to give Circe¡¯s forehead a flick just above the mark. Electricity flowed through the body with a violent current. It jumped, suddenly full of movement as her limbs flailed about. The heart beat again, but ever so weakly. Circe went limp and remained unconscious. ¡°Well, you¡¯re no fun. I was hoping for a little more banter. Well, as one with the mercy of the mark, or several in your case, you¡¯re entitled to a starter kit to help you deal with the pain. Can you even hear me, blink if you¡¯re listening.¡± The limp, gurgling, gasping, and frothing body blinked. Azoria lifted the severed hand held to its former arm with strings of spiritual parasitic tendrils and winced with a disgusted frown before letting the limp hand plop down against the mushrooms with the palm facing down. A giant needle full of bubbling red liquid appeared out of thin air. Azoria grabbed it. ¡°I don¡¯t have much time. You are entitled to the medicine made from my flesh and blood. But this is processed differently, because if I gave you what everyone else received. Well, let¡¯s put it this way, if your half-moon brands go dormant, you¡¯ll succumb to your wounds and instantly die.¡±If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Gurgling and spitting served as the response. Circe reached for the needle with her left hand. It felt like lifting five hundred pounds. The needle plunged directly into Circe¡¯s aorta. Slowly the plunger pushed down. The sluggish heart steadied, even began to beat a little faster. Muscles activated. Circe puked to clear her throat of all the rotten mucus and puss. Pain returned at full blast, pulsing through her system as awareness increased. The tendril caressed her skin and dove into her chest. Her lungs stretched and pulled with a tendril scaffolding until she could breathe again, even through her broken nose if she dared to handle yet more buzzing pain. The last quarter of the injection rushed in at once as Azoria hastened her force. Circe jolted upright in a sitting position for the first time in a while. But her voice, once pretty, remained a horrid frog like croak. Tears ran down her cheeks. ¡°What did you give me? It hurts.¡± ¡°I gave you my blood. I gave you nutrients. I gave you hydration. I gave you anti-bodies. I gave you magic. I gave you luck. A game can¡¯t be called a game if it is rigged, so let¡¯s just say I leveled the playing field in the spirit of fairness. You were chosen to play my game, not for a sacrifice. But don¡¯t get ahead of yourself, the effect of that injection will degrade over time. If you simply sit here and do nothing, in a few days your body will succumb to all those terrible wounds. And you will die.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t keep food down! It¡¯s too much pain! I can barely drink water!¡± ¡°That¡¯s not my problem, is it now? Maybe if we spent less time pulling all our hair out and more time leveling our skills, we wouldn¡¯t be in this predicament.¡± ¡°Make the pain stop!¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m not going to do that. Besides, you¡¯re doing fine. I¡¯ve never seen someone function so well with six half-moons.¡± Circe pulled herself to her feet. Her broken arm hung limply. The tendrils had extended a bit too far and left the palm resting on over a mushroom. Yet Circe could still move it. She even felt blood pumping into it. Every move came with a sharp stabbing sensation. ¡°Let¡¯s go, right here, right now. I¡¯m going to kill you.¡± Azoria clutched her stomach and broke out into raucous laughter as the empty needle disintegrated in your hands. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re so hilarious. If it wasn¡¯t for me, you¡¯d be floating around in Mog¡¯s world until your very soul disintegrates in agony that will make this all feel like a vacation. But you go ahead, waste energy you don¡¯t have trying to kill me. Come at me. I won¡¯t even fight back.¡± Circe clutched her stomach and retched as she fell back on one knee overcome by extreme nausea. Eyes narrowed at the demoness. The other knee rested on the mushroom as Circe retched in pain but nothing existed in her stomach to come up. The tendrils continued to tickle her lungs while the skin of her chest burned with every conceivable form of pain. And yet Circe took it, absorbed it, embraced it. She felt masochistic, but that would imply she wanted it not that she endured it. ¡°I¡¯m going to kill you, later. I don¡¯t feel like it right now,¡± Circe knelt before Azoria, on her knees despite herself. Her body listed and her head lilted sideways. The wall of roaches continued to skitter and click over the opening to the culvert, ¡°What exactly do you want from me. If there¡¯s nothing else. Just go away. I hate you. I hate everything about you.¡± Azoria pressed a finger to her lip and thought for a long a moment before extending her arms, ¡°I want you to play my game. But you already know that. For you specifically, well, I want you to be my knight, my counselor, my general, my right hand.¡± ¡°Ha! I¡¯ll never be any of that. Didn¡¯t you hear me? I¡¯m the one who¡¯s going to kill you.¡± Knuckles cracked with loud pops, ¡°Perhaps, but in order to kill me, you¡¯ll need so much more power. Be mine, belong to me, and one day, if you¡¯re lucky, you¡¯ll bring about my last.¡± ¡°You¡¯re evil. This place is a living hell.¡± ¡°The powerless can¡¯t do anything about it. With power, you can alter it to your preferences. I¡¯m making you an offer that you¡¯d be a fool to refuse. But you are the divergent one. Living up to that title here and now will be the death of you.¡± ¡°What do I have to do?¡± A smile crept from cheek to cheek, ¡°Escape this dungeon. If you can escape this dungeon without death¡¯s certainty upon you, I¡¯ll make you my number one, my one and only number one. It¡¯s the only fair offer seeing as Moggy rigged the game against you.¡± Circe gripped her head. The water dripped on her scalped. One drop, then another, and half a minute later another. The demoness didn¡¯t go anywhere as she waited with that creepy smile etched on her face. ¡°I¡¯ll try my best. But not for you. I¡¯m doing this for Alfredo and Ebony. And when the time comes, I¡¯ll be the one to kill you.¡± ¡°And a glorious day it shall be. My time is short. It¡¯s time to leave you to your own devices. Don¡¯t be useless. Try not to get any more injuries. Use every power at your disposal. Endure the pain. Use your ¡®friends.¡¯ Trust nobody. I¡¯ll be cheering for you as I relax in my chambers.¡± Azoria began to vanish. Unable to help herself, Circe reached out to her almost desperately, ¡°Why did I get such a useless power? Can¡¯t you give something cool like other people have?¡± Azoria flashed a gentle smile with a shrug as she became ethereal. Soon the demoness vanished, only her voice remained as Circe reached out towards the wall of skittering roaches. ¡°You were the last selected contestant for a reason. Have you already forgotten what you saw in the room?¡± ¡°I demand an exchange! Give me a useful power!¡± ¡°Sorry, The Only Power Left Is Alteration.¡± 51. BOOM! The inky purple stain of the portal shimmered. Three forms, the swirling spaded tail of Azoria tattooed on the backs of their right hands, appeared on the stone base. The stinking muck of the ancient library surrounded them. A tall man in a worn boonie hat stood with hands in his pockets. Crocodile teeth lined the broad brim. A crumpled cigarette stuck between peeling lips. A chain necklace over his worn brown short kept a collection of ranger badges. A leather sheath decorated his right hip. An old guitar was strapped to his back. Torn jeans hung over his lanky body; they covered half the thick steel-toe military boots that made him seem taller. Dark stubble clung to his chin in patches. Lips opened; misaligned yellow teeth ground the filter. [Zak Murdoch.] A lanky young woman with reddish-orange hair and matching freckles across her cheeks spawned next to him. The top of her head barely reached his shoulders. Teal cargo shorts and tan bush shirt complimented brown work books. Heavy stockings reached into the wide shorts. Her pupils widened to embrace the dim lighting. Nose wrinkled before resting. A tripod hung from her bulging backpack and a camera from her neck. Glossy pink lips opened at the sights of the cavern. [Shelly Princess Forensica.] To the left, a short, thin, yet muscular man in reddish shorts and matching sleeveless shirt spawned. His salt and pepper hair curled tightly on wizened head. Dark eyes adjusted, then narrowed. Thick lips pressed as his nose wrinkled. A forest camouflage pack burdened his back. A blade rested in a black leather sheath at his left hip. [Mandawuy.] Zak took a wide step. He walked with his hands in his pockets. His boots pushed aside the runny ankle-high muck with a heavy splish splosh. It seeped into his boots. Mandawuy surveyed the stalagmites while Zak stared blankly ahead. Shelly¡¯s knees knocked together for a moment as she clasped her fingers in front of her chest and trembled. Boots lifted from the platform as hands raised. She splashed, then put her arms out and ran; her body tilted while twirling and zig-zagging until she caught up. Then she stopped. Camera lifted. Cave surveyed. The others kept moving. She blinked. Shoulders shrugged. Camera dropped to her chest. She ran a twirling run back to the men. They kept walking. Zak moved with a single focus. Mandawuy stayed closed and surveyed the terrain. Shelly stopped to take pictures of the glowing mushrooms. Her digital camera lit with a flash. She ran a twirling run to Zak¡¯s side only to pause again with her camera between her palms. A white speck thumped in the distance. A high pitch whine tingled Mandawuy¡¯s ears. Focus shifted ahead to match his partner as they strode forward with a single focus. The beast approached. They approached the beast. The white speck grew into a fat puffy mite pushing its spliney legs out of the soup, one at a time, in no great hurry. The moans bellowed louder. It faced them with no face. Two broad incisors the same pearly translucent white as the rest of ghostly body clicked, dug, sucked, and pulled at the abundance of juices over the cavern floor. Sharpness gnashed like grinding blades. The great abundance of tubes bulged upwards. They curved around each other, slid downward, and plunged into the sauce. One caught a slimy wriggling catfish with long whiskers. Teeth gnashed the creature through a shredder. Chunky remains curled through the long tube until they dumped into the stomachs. The party continued to approach. Shelly jumped up and down to splash the muck on Zak¡¯s jeans. Her hands went straight to her camera as she chittered. Zak continued straight ahead with broad strolling steps. The beast continued straight, barely pulling itself forward on six stubby legs lined with bristles. When the creature was only meters away, it towered over them. Yet it moved forward. Several tubes clicked with sharp toothy maws as they contracted towards its back. A moan blasted from behind its incisors. A discordant resonance joined from the toothy pipes. The party winced. Yet the giant mite had no interest. Plenty of space and time existed to step aside. [Bite-Bite-Mite.] Until it saw Zak. A shimmering red gleamed from a beady eye the size of pea. Hatred focused on the tall man. Ever so slightly, Zak smiled. Shelly lifted her camera and kept it ready. Mandawuy braced the back of his blade against his palm as his legs shifted with knees bent slightly. Zak put out a hand to Mandawuy. A dull red stick of dynamite with a short fuse landed in his palm. The stick pushed down into the left pocket of his jeans. Calloused hands pushed against his back for nice loud crack. He charged forward.
Skill Description
Boot To The Face Novice 01 A boot to the face. Can only be used when wearing boots. Can only be used twice a day. The attack has a fifty percent chance to knock out the victim if it lands on the head.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Kick it in the face! A soaked boat slammed full force into the top crack of milky incisors. That ear splitting wail issued as Zak caught purchase and climbed on the creature¡¯s stubby head. A long knife slid out and plunged into a stubby neck. Softer flesh let the blade plunge in. Zak gave it a right good twist and pulled to create a deep gash. A putrid acidic scent blasted upward with a hiss. Several necks extended, curved, twirled, gnashed their triangular teeth as they plunged towards Zak¡¯s back. The knife came free, but the toothy tubes flew. Shelly raised her head slightly, centered the camera on the twitching incisors of the beast. It froze. The tubes froze. Not a single movement. Not a single cry. No teeth gnashed.
Skill Description
Camera Pose Apprentice 41: Any subject of your photos must freeze for one second. If the subject is a beast, they must freeze for two seconds. If the subject is a plant they must freeze for three seconds. If the subject is inanimate, they must freeze for four seconds.
The beast didn¡¯t smile for the camera. A flash lit the stubby head protruding from the rotund body. The tubular feeding extensions varied in thickness; some thick as a python while others no thicker than his sheila¡¯s arm. He took a few strides to climb up the beast¡¯s body. The still tubes served as branches even after they quickly returned to confused flailing motion. Boots found easy purchase in cracks between chitinous plates. The under structure felt quite springy. He used it like a trampoline. Hand slapped against thickest shaft as fingers dug into the flesh to stabilize. His knife chopped into the base. The second chop slid through the flesh. The severed tube slid limply as a putrid stench blasted. The wound squelched shut to stop the flow of acidic air. Tubes twirled at him. He grabbed one and squeezed to hard it crumpled. With a good hard kick, the other swung awkwardly to tangle into one behind it. He chopped at the extensions as if they were underbrush until he clung to the thickest. The blade slammed through the python sized tube. It clicked against small teeth that lined the inside. Another chorus of moans of whistles followed. Five tubes curled in C shapes as they bared their teeth. Murky water dripped before they froze. They froze. Zak slashed. One after the other the beast lost feeding tubes. They slid limply into the pool where they floated like discarded logs. Slowly, they expanded their full length as they filled before sinking. A slender tube clattered its teeth. It flailed as he squeezed it with such force it crumpled in his hand. The tube battered its own body as Zak broke into grin. A whining roar bellowed through the caverns. Stubby, chitinous legs tensed to lift the mite¡¯s torso upward. Backwash dripped off pale chitin plates as it bucked. Mandawuy concentrated. Wet mud in the shape of a hand pushed from the water. Fingers wrapped a leg. Instead of charging forward, the mite spun in circles.
Skill Description
Clay Hands Novice 01 A clay hand springs from the ground to grapple an opponent. You can only summon one at a time. The hand will hold up to 100kg for 10 minutes and lose one minute past every additional 100kg.
The hand crumbled in four seconds. Mandawuy summoned another as the beast froze in place. Zak spun atop the mite¡¯s back to maintain his balance with a hold of the tube he hadn¡¯t severed. His feet went up as the creature thrashed. It jumped, froze in mid-air, and fell stiffly. Two seconds. The mite stood yet listed to the side. A series of clicks followed a high moan. The knife sliced the final tube before he kicked it over the side. The body of the mite proved an easy slide to get down. Once on the ground, he twisted and gave it a good kick. A muddy hand grabbed the back leg and pulled. The mite slipped to its side. It thrashed because its belly was exposed. The knife twirled before pushing into the underbelly.
Skill Description
Now That¡¯s A Knife Novice 01 A high damage slicing attack. Must be a swipe across the chest or abdomen. Always lands as a critical hit against beasts. Can be used once a day.
The long blade slid through flesh. A trail of bladders and sticky entrails slapped out into a pile. The beast went limp with a long slow gurgling. [Attained: Now That¡¯s A Knife Novice 02] Zak tipped his hat as his sheila jumped up and down. Mandawuy went back to scanning the cavern. A big, bloated, shaft pressed his boot. The crumpled cigarette slid from under his tongue before he clenched the filter between his front teeth. Hand thrust into the murk and pulled up the python fat tube. Palm slid along until it reached the outer ring of glistening triangular teeth. A swift hack separated the mouth, which he pulled into a toothy crown that stretched around his hat. Good enough for now. The blade slid back in its home. A leather string snapped to hold it. Hands slid in his pockets. Zak took a long casual stride. Shelly ran to catch up. Mandawuy held a hand out. The stick of dynamite returned. Forward mates. 52. Inoshishi Rusty signs in a garbled language hung bolted to yellowing tile covering the wall around the sigil platform. Crumbling beams of mold eaten brick with peeking rebar split a narrow hall extending from the portal room. Occasionally, the hall would shake with a monotone rumbling. The phosphorescent rock veins from Azoria¡¯s audience chamber lit the area with a harsh white light. The vein of light traveled along the center ceiling of the terminal. In some of the culverts ahead, the light flickered. As they stepped off the sigil stand a sign hit the cement floor with a clatter. A dampness filled the air as little rivulets of water ran down the tile into rocky outcroppings that pushed the tiles aside. Puddles formed on the uneven cement. Janele clamped the open laceration slicing diagonally across her stomach with both hands as she led the party. Lizbet followed just behind. Hoop earrings gave little bounces with each step. The red goblin stomped angrily beside her with a dagger in its hand. Chien walked with hands in the pocket of his trench coat. One last stick of cherry flavored gum tumbled between his fingers. Moss appeared. A little at first, but as they went further more hung from the walls. It crawled across the floor before becoming a moist carpet. It covered the crumbling pillars to obscure the unreadable signs. It only failed to cling to the ceiling, where the vein of phosphorescent rock asserted its dominance. As they walked further, as if without thought or aim, the light flickered in more places like a bad halogen bulb. The strings of moss became more assertive, even bridging across the light source while clinging their roots into it. Rusted vents on the floor exposed gaping openings that led into a cramped wet darkness. Chien swore her heard snorting from inside one. The tunnel narrowed to force them to walk in single file with Chien lagging behind. Then and opening appeared to the left, a space carved out and dimly lit by moss covered veins. Green and yellow moss bedded the floor and lined the walls abundantly.
Injuries Description
Torso You are injured. Stat reductions proportional to severity of injury. Stamina reduced. Hit box points reduced proportional to severity and location of injuries. Attacks to injured areas always result in critical hits.
Janele stopped to lean her forehead against the moss while clutching her wound. Glowing violet eyes and a half-moon mark burned in her mental vision. That jagged edge of human bone swiped before she thought to dodge. Janele hadn¡¯t expected to be attacked by a severed hand. The gristle of the marrow pulsed with life. She¡¯d forgotten the power of a corned rat, a being so desperate it could gnaw off its own limbs to escape. The sting from her laceration combined with exhaustion to slide her to her knees. It didn¡¯t feel deep, but it was jagged, it bled, and it radiated pain. Her hands pinched it like a vice to fight the agony and keep it closed. Lizbet crouched to put a hand on Janele¡¯s shoulder. The red goblin glared at them. ¡°This place seems calm enough, let¡¯s take a break and get you patched up, okay?¡± A dry patch in the bed of moss proved a soft place to sit. Janele slid her hand behind the moss and felt stone pushing through broken tile. She swallowed hard, pushed her shoulder against the wall, and continued clamping the laceration in the deep line between her navel and the side of her ribcage. Lizbet rubbed her shoulder gently. ¡°Let me see it, please. I really do want to be your friend.¡± Janele shook her head, ¡°It¡¯s nothin¡¯ I can¡¯t handle. I can keep going. Jus¡¯ give me a minute to think. Ya know what? Screw this. I¡¯m gonna go back there and make that little bitch pay for cutting me up.¡± Janele straightened, but after a single step she faltered and slid down with her back against the wall. She put her head back with a groan as she clamped her abdomen. Soaked sneakers kicked moss aside. Lizbet took off her over shirt, revealing a dirty sports bra underneath, and began to tear it. ¡°You¡¯re still bleeding. We need to treat that.¡±The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°With what? Don¡¯t rip your shirt. It¡¯s soaked in crap anyway. It¡¯s no good. I don¡¯t want an infection.¡± ¡°You¡¯re gonna get one anyway if you keep being stupid.¡± The red goblin stepped forward to peer at the wound. Then it hopped backwards. It pulled moss off the wall, but only the dryer yellow moss, which it heaped into a pile. Loose debris and broken tiles formed a circular border. A small wooden tube was pulled from a satchel tied to the red goblin¡¯s shorts. It blew into the tube. The pitch adjusted until it reached a high hum. The other end glowed as the wood dried, then sparked. The goblin pressed the burning end into the pile of yellow moss. Next, it snatched the rag Lizbet tore from her shirt and held it over the fire. ¡°What are you doing? Are you trying to help? Do you want me to find some fuel for the fire?¡± The goblin tilted its head. It didn¡¯t have any knowledge of Common. It let the flames lick the long dirty rag until it dried. The flame licked the poor creature¡¯s hand and made flesh blister. Seeing the cloth dry and at risk of burning, Lizbet went to grab it. The goblin pulled it back and took a step to Janele, who dripped with sweat as her skin paled. Blood seeped against the long decorative nails of her clenching fingers. The goblin pointed to the yellow moss, then to Chien, then to the fire. The detective nodded before gathering yellow strands to feed their little fire. It then jumped back to the fire and beckoned Janele. ¡°Nar! Nar! Geb nar!¡± ¡°I think it wants you near the fire,¡± Chien said. Janele wiped her forehead, then scooted toward the pathetic fire without getting up. She glared at Chien. The yellow moss wasn¡¯t as common as the green, which was too moist to burn, so it took the detective a bit of time to find yellow moss that wasn¡¯t soaking. The goblin reached into the fire with a needle and pulled out some still burning moss. It reached forward to stuff the moss into the laceration. Fingers wrapped its neck. Little beady red eyes bulged as it kicked and cried. ¡°What are you tryin¡¯ to do to me monster?¡± Chien shook his head, ¡°I think it¡¯s trying to treat your wound.¡± ¡°Yeah, I think it¡¯s trying to help,¡± Lizbet turned to Chien, ¡°Why are you following us, go away before I decide to kill you.¡± Janele released the goblin from the strangle hold. It quickly caught its breath and without even grumbling stuffed burning moss in the laceration. It then positioned Janele¡¯s hands to indicate she should continue to hold the wound shut for now. It had a needle and some string which it used to sew the wound while leaving a small amount of still burning moss inside. Janele put her hands down and laid flat on her back. ¡°Give me something to bite!¡± Chien pulled a small handkerchief from an upper coat pocket that was still dry and mostly clean. ¡°You¡¯re not serious?¡± Lizbet said. Janele bit down. Once her hands were no longer needed, they went behind her back in submission to the mob. Her back rested over them as the goblin worked from left to right, bottom near the hip to the top near the right side of her rib cage where the wound deepened. Lizbet sat to watch the goblin work. The stitching looked ugly but it closed the worst of it. Lizbet frowned at the goblin. ¡°You better know what you¡¯re doing Mr. Monster,¡± then she looked at Chien, ¡°Didn¡¯t I tell you to get? Get! Get! Get! You¡¯re not wanted here.¡± ¡°You¡¯re serious? Fine. I¡¯m not going to stay where I¡¯m not wanted.¡± Janele spoke through clenched teeth as she arched her back against the goblin¡¯s stitch work, ¡°No wait. You helped us out. You¡¯re good. We won¡¯t cause you problems if you keep being good.¡± ¡°Are you sure about this?¡± Lizbet asked. ¡°I¡¯ve given it some thought. We might not be able to handle this alone. Didn¡¯t she say something about a team of five being optimal? We got proud, and look what happened.¡± Chien put his arms around his chest and took a deep breath through his nose. The damp air here smelt rancid. The goblin finished sewing the wound with a jagged crisscrossing stitch. It reached to direct Janele to sit up, which she did with some effort. The now somewhat charred band of cloth Lizbet created from her shirt wrapped around Janele¡¯s waist to cover the wound before being tied snugly. ¡°He can at least tell us his name.¡± ¡°Fine. It¡¯s Chien Nguyen.¡± Lizbet immediately summoned the screens. Her fingers licked at them, ¡°Number one reason not to trust him. He¡¯s a cop, a detective of all things. No good. Never no good.¡± ¡°Are his abilities decent?¡± Lizbet shrugged her shoulders, ¡°Dunno. They seem okay. We¡¯ve used better for target practice. And it¡¯s fine for me to say that, seems like he¡¯d know if we lied to him. Take his equipment away and he¡¯s pretty useless.¡± Janele pressed a finger to her forehead as she slowly stood, ¡°Fail to kill our target and you¡¯re pretty freaking useless!¡± ¡°I still have my goblin. And I¡¯m not the one saying no one can touch me. No one can touch me! No one can touch me! You almost got offed by the most pathetic player on the roster, so I don¡¯t want to hear it no more from you!¡± Janele put her hands on her hips. ¡°If I almost got offed, then what does that make you? Miss accuracy who failed to kill her target because she twisted in mid-air or something stupid like that. I wouldn¡¯t be opened up like some roast beef if you¡¯d done your job like you¡¯re supposed to do it.¡± They were face to face. Forehead pressed against forehead. Chien approached the fire and warmed his hand over it, ¡°Pathetic or not. She¡¯s an undead player. They have uncanny abilities. You saw what happened by the stage, everybody did. It took attacks from several other players to finally bring him down. So perhaps you two should be glad to have escaped intact? I mean, you saw her summon those bugs, right?¡± They both turned to him simultaneously, ¡°Shut up pig!¡± A loud squeal burst from the tunnel in the direction they had come, ¡°Squuueeeeep!¡± The goblin tensed and took up its stone dagger as another squeal issued from the direction they were headed. ¡°Squoooiiip! Shrruuuuck!¡± 53. Princess Of The Reviled A rancid breeze remained in Azoria¡¯s place. Circe¡¯s heart pounded furiously. The poison circulating through her veins reached the marks. Left sole opened. Right sole opened. Back of the right hand opened. Back of the left hand opened. Forehead opened. They all opened in brilliant violet hue. They glowed so strongly that Circe herself unwillingly became a purple mage light. A pulsing beat thumped in her head. Crawling vines of violet glow reached the mark on her chest. It cracked open. Glowed like a gem. The pain, magnificent. Circe imagined that nobody had ever experienced such unified, soul exalting pain. Every fiber of her flesh offered itself to the marks. Circe waited for the pain to subside. Several minutes passed. It didn¡¯t subside. How was she supposed to function like this? She hyperventilated, growled like an injured wolf. Despite pain as if she had no skin, not just the few truly flayed spots around her hands, she managed to stand. An energy, a hyperactive, unfocused, raging insanity merged with her pain. The pain. The insanity. The depression. The energy. The hyper-activity. The paranoia. The rage. All these forces needed to be kept in check. Her gut twisted. She retched. Her psyche felt stronger than her body, far stronger. Her poor body. Circe started to sniffle, then cry, as she looked at her right hand. This was the hand that her father held, the hand that pat her dying grandmother¡¯s cheek, the hand that balanced her when she practiced gymnastics, the hand that had taken notes in her beautiful cursive that everyone used to praise. It didn¡¯t deserve to be severed. Droplets of salty water hit her palm as she made the trembling fingers twitch. The pained glow radiated from the marks. Circe trembled. Twirled. Bare feet pushed into the slushy soil. Hands went to her knees. She hyperventilated. Stomach tied itself in knots. She just needed to ignore the pain, but as her back froze in tension she realized it was easier said than done. ¡°If I don¡¯t level up, we all die!¡± Circe croaked, ¡°Can¡¯t you lay off!? Pleaaaaaase!¡± Shoulder bashed into the uneven wall. Circe sensed the impact, but it simply blended into the pain soup. Azoria was a dumb bitch. Azoria had never experienced pain like this. No one could ever experience pain like this! Circe put both hands against her head and looked up at the ceiling as her knees splashed into the soft mound. Time would soon run out. This pain. This pain. Soon she¡¯d be dead and there would be nothing. No! This pain meant she lived. Alive. Her hand caressed her cheeks as they slid down her bloody face. Alive. ¡°This pain means I¡¯m alive. I¡¯m alive. Hahahaha! Alive. I¡¯m alive. This pain. It¡¯s my pain. All mine. Nobody else can have it. Six brands. Six brands. Six brands. Six brands. We¡¯re special. Me and my six special brands.¡± Each mark erupted with violent violet energy. Even her open mouth glowed. And then... She heard something from outside the roach wall. On her hands and knees, she went. Pain continued to pulse through every fiber of her being as her ever present companion. It felt like a small drill dug into each and every one of her remaining teeth. No passing out, no going unconscious. The marks wouldn¡¯t hear of such things. Hee! Hee! Hee! Ha! Ha! Ha! Delectable AGONY! The sound from outside dissipated into the nothing. The wail of a dying mite in the distance came and then went. Hopefully, it was nothing. Paranoia. Circe¡¯s eyes twitched apoplectically. Then she heaved, spit, and broke into a cold sweat. Somewhere, drowning under all this pain, was a functioning brain. A strange brain. But a good brain. She needed to use it. She needed a hug. No sense in crying about what she couldn¡¯t have. Focus on what she could have. What she could do. There was a new power. Maybe she could do something with it. What was it? Circe clawed through the film of agony to refresh her memory. A minor buff or debuff. A small alteration to a living being. Once per day. But she had used it twice today? Did it mean once per day on the same living being? No, it felt different, like she bent the system and skipped steps. That¡¯s what the pain was for, to keep her distracted, to keep her from learning her true powers. Circe doubled over. Forehead buried itself into the grossness as she cried, ¡°It¡¯s working. But I can still move.¡± The roaches moved in single file under her fingers. One-by-one, she decided to increase their intellect. They were her only allies. She literally hid behind them, depended on them for everything. Hopefully, they weren¡¯t using her like everyone else. Minutes upon minutes passed with one roach after another receiving her blessing, and yet her mana felt inexhaustible. Twenty minutes, twenty roaches. There was no sense of the passage of time otherwise. Circe felt like she should be moving. Hiding here behind the wall of roaches would only lead to her death. Leveling up her useless powers was just an excuse. Slowly, her head tilted upwards to peer at the wall of roaches in front of her, ¡°It¡¯s too colorful. I could have least, made it camouflaged.¡± The green roach crawled out of her pocket. It skittered to the agglomeration of shifting roach flesh to meld with it. Suddenly the color palette shifted, the reds, oranges, browns, purples, and greens melded to create a dull gray and brown shade more closely resembling the cavern walls. Circe sniffed through deeply pained breaths. It was funny because she wouldn¡¯t need the wall much longer. Or, what if she wore the roaches? She could sneak around with nobody being the wiser. Was it fair to keep using them like this? What choice did she have? If she hid here, the massive stimulant pumping through her body would fade, and she would die. But that didn¡¯t mean she should leave as she was, without a plan. Deep gasps gurgled from her throat as she summoned the screen.

Circe Oratia Sheffield

Divergent Bookworm

Princess Of The Reviled

Skill Description
Alteration Novice 27 Can change coloration of another subject¡¯s body as desired twice daily. Must make physical contact with target for thirty seconds to take effect. The change will register over a period of twenty minutes or longer depending on mana consumed and severity of the change. Sub-skill [Alteration of Properties] levels with this skill.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
Alteration of Properties Novice 04 Once a day, you can apply a minor change to the physical properties of a living being that applies a permanent buff or debuff up to four percent of a chosen statistical property. Must make physical contact with target for fifty seconds to take effect. The change will register over a period of twenty minutes or longer depending on mana consumed and severity of the change.
Buff Description
Azoria¡¯s Flesh Death Bane Mix Adrenaline Boost. 500 Percent Stamina Boost. 500 Percent Mana Boost. All luck statistics Boosted to maximum. Triples the effectiveness of the Half Moon Brand. Loses random amount of effectiveness every hour after the first five hours. Becomes a debuff after 48 hours. Debuff peaks in severity at 96 hours and then fades over another 48 hours.
Curse Description
Stat Locked Can not gain experience. Can not gain stat points beyond initial levels in the following categories: Strength, Toughness, Speed, Agility, Stamina, Magic, Spirit, and Luck
Half Moon Brand: Forehead You refused to make a choice and are marked as a traitor against Azoria. The mark will bring pain and feed on it. You will never have rest. However, service to your Lord may abate your pain.
Half Moon Brand: Right Hand You...
Half Moon Brand: Right Foot You...
Half Moon Brand: Left Foot You...
Half Moon Brand: Left Hand You...
Half Moon Brand: Heart You are the ultimate fool. You will never be loved. Welcome to Hell.
Mortally Injured: Lungs You are mortally injured. Death imminent. Stat reductions proportional to severity of injury. Hit box points reduced proportional to severity and location of injuries. Attacks to injured areas always result in critical hits.
Severely Injured: Blood Loss You...
Severely Injured: Vocal Cords You...
Significantly Injured: Chest You...
Significantly Injured: Right Arm You...
Significantly Injured: Right Hand You...
Significantly Injured: Lower Spine You...
Significantly Injured: Face You...
Significantly Injured: Jaw You...
Significantly Injured: Throat You...
Injured: Scalp You...
Injured: Right Leg You...
Error: Player Insane How are you not insane? Well, it won¡¯t be long. We¡¯ll just say you¡¯re insane anyway. It¡¯s close enough.
Error: Player Dead How are you not dead yet? Well, it won¡¯t be long. So why don¡¯t you just take a rest and let it all go? Nobody would miss a disgusting wretch like you. Don¡¯t make the poor roaches wait to feast on your decaying flesh.
She¡¯d only needed the information about her powers but ended up scanning everything anyway, just like her. Even in this situation, distracted. The injuries looked bad, yet Circe knew the spiritual creatures living in her six brands glued her together. She wouldn¡¯t succumb to her wounds while stimulated by Azoria¡¯s mixture. With her luck problem solved, for now, Circe allowed her roaches to cloak her form. The swarm crawled over her body. Into the darkness of the septic swamp, the princess of the reviled stepped forth with a blissful laugh. Every step was hot coals mixed with broken glass. 54. Actually... TuskcarBBs ¡°Squoink?¡± The red goblin motioned everyone to stay back before it peered down the tunnel in both directions. A little boar rummaged through the moss. It squeaked. Moss pulled into its snout and lifted until it revealed a toadstool growing in a small pit surrounded by broken tile. The boar¡¯s fat neck lifted as it munched the fungus with the smooth molars housed in its snout. A smacking sound slapped through the tunnel. Dollops of saliva cascaded from its mouth. Moss scrunched under Lizbet as she joined the goblin. She squinted. The light in this tunnel made everything blurry. It was becoming increasingly harder to see. The colors were oversaturated like an old television that had broken. The further away a thing was, the worse it got. But she could recognize the baby pig. She felt Janele¡¯s hand on her shoulder, ¡°Aww, cute, looks like we have dinner.¡± ¡°Arbingsker.¡± The red goblin pointed to the fire, jumped, shook his head, put a hand over its mouth, pointed to the ground, and sat down. Lizbet squinted at the goblin; the red burned off its skin as it blurred into a monochromatic figure. Squinting helped define its shape, but the colors didn¡¯t return. ¡°Goblin mister, go kill one of them pigs and bring it back here,¡± she turned to Janele and squinted, it was Janele, right? ¡°We can have the cop butcher it and share the meat.¡± ¡°Squeap! Squeap! Squeap?¡± Squeals came both sides of the long tunnel. Lizbet rubbed the side of her head, pulled at her gold hoop earring, and winced as Janele leaned over her. ¡°I see three, why not kill them all? They¡¯re just animals. We can cook them with our fire.¡± ¡°This tiny fire can¡¯t cook much, and I don¡¯t see material to feed it,¡± Chien said. The goblin crept slowly along the wall towards the small boars as they munched. It grumbled in protest, yet in the most hushed of whispers. ¡°Tell your goblin to hurry up! We don¡¯t have all day.¡± Lizbet peered from their opening and looked down both sides of the hall. Everything was monochromatic and blurry. Her eyes narrowed. She pushed at the sides of them with the tips of her index fingers. The grumbling of the goblin could barely be heard to the left. ¡°Hey goblin! Stop being stupid! Hurry up and attack now! Kill the closest one!¡± ¡°Greeeeeeb¡­¡± returned from the hall in response. It understood what she wanted from it via the contract power and had no other choice but to obey. ¡°Spoink? Squrreeeeeeeeeeeeeee!¡± A stone dagger plunged into the side of the brown furry piglet. It rammed the goblin with snout, only to get stabbed again. The stone blade slid across the left side of the beast as it backed away. A trail of blood spewed across the moss as it ran deeper into the tunnel. ¡°Squeeeeeeeep! Squeeeaaaaaaa! Squeeeeeeeep!¡± ¡°It won¡¯t get far, after it!¡± Janele said. ¡°Yeah, goblin, after it, hurry it up!¡± The blade pulled out of Janele¡¯s belt. She squeezed her fingers around the grip before chasing the goblin. One of the fatter piglets jumped in her way.
Skill Description
Kicking Novice 13 Your kicks are six percent more likely to land as a critical hit. You can utilize a power kick with ten percent increased strength once per day.
A swift kick shoved the beast against the tile wall. With its snout pressed into the tile, Janele gave the stunned animal a strong stomp, then another. It slid to the ground on its side. She used the leveraged to stomp its skull until it stopped moving. The bone structure proved a bit too strong to break even while using her body weight like a sledge hammer. Blade cleanly sliced the neck to finish it. Blood gushed onto her sneakers.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Lizbet, come back! No need, I got a bigger one!¡± Lizbet turned in the direction of Janele¡¯s voice, ¡°Really, fine then. Mr. Goblin, return!¡± Chien put his hand above his eyes to block the strong glare as he looked down the tunnel. Lizbet looked disorientated as the goblin hopped to her side and grabbed her hand. Was it directing her forward? A dying beast squealed as blood drained from its neck. Janele held it down with her foot. Metal clanged as a vent cover stripped its screws before being flung against the wall. He turned around. ¡°Squrunk!¡± On four legs, it reached nearly half his height. The boar had tusks. Tusks on its face. Tusks lined its back. Tube like tusks extended from both its sides. It began to rev. The sound of an engine grew loud as it furrowed its brow at Chien. Big green angry eyes glared in his direction. The Makarov aimed at the beast¡¯s forehead as he stood his ground. The boar stomped its right foot, lifted its snout, and grunted. The snout pulled back and shot forward. Something small and round smacked Chien¡¯s trench coat. It stung through the clothes covering his thigh. He winced a bit. ¡°Is that all you got big fella?¡± The beast braced its hooves into the moss and opened wide, ¡°Facciam coda alla GEEEEEENTE!¡± Chien staggered due to the sonic blast at the last note that left his ears ringing. He waved his pistol, almost dropped it. The beast charged. Chien held unblinkingly then dodged aside at the last moment. It ran full speed toward the others. Behind Lizbet, another large bore loaded with tusks ran out of an opened vent. It slammed into the opposite wall, slid, and then braced itself to block the path. ¡°Lizbet! Behind you!¡± ¡°I can¡¯t see anything! My vision is all blurry!¡± ¡°Vogliamo una cena prelibaaaaata. Squoink.¡± The boar scrunched its snout back, then popped it forward. Lizbet felt a pellet pierce the back of her neck. Another lodged into the skin of her upper arm. A gasp released spittle as she reached for the back of neck and felt warm wet smear her fingers. The goblin pushed her against the wall before the larger boar could body slam her from the other side. The boar dug its hooves into the moss to not slam into its pack member. The smaller boar revved with the sound of a go-cart engine. Acrid smoke escaped the pipe shaped tusks on its sides. Its tail lifted as brown dusty smoke poured out from underneath. The goblin clung to the wall, pushed itself up, and jumped on its tusks. Chien fired at the backside of the larger boar. It sang. ¡°La commedia ¨¨ stupeeeenda!¡± The sound of a roaring engine overwhelmed the narrow passages as it ran in circles until it veered face first into the wall. Janele leveled a power kick into the spine of the offending swine. A harsh crack echoed. The beast¡¯s left tusk cracked and fell against the moss as it stumbled back and fell on its side. ¡°Il vizio...¡± Another shot echoed as Chien¡¯s ears rang. The aim proved true, right between the eyes of the beast ridden by the goblin. But the shot barely slowed its charge toward Janele. She grabbed some moss and tried to tuck herself upward. It wasn¡¯t strong enough to hold her weight, so she pulled two thick tufts from the ceiling. Tusks rammed her dead on, one against each hip. Janele flew back until her butt hit the moss. The boar stomped over her as the goblin¡¯s stone blade clanged against the back tusks. Soon it found purchase in the tough furry skin. The stone work gave up. The blade of the crude weapon lodged inside. The goblin threw the twine wrapped handle aside and crawled over the back tusks. The bucking boar caused the tusks to punch his chest and gut along the way. It punched the boar¡¯s forehead in return. Janele kicked at its belly to protect her chest and neck. Lizbet hugged the walls in tears. A small string of blood ran to her left wrist from her upper arm. The shirt collar became red. She could hear the struggle, but everything around her blurred into the same vague blob. No matter how hard she squinted, she couldn¡¯t see anything! Chien fired at a mid-sized piglet that charged her. The shot spun the beast and it collapsed. The next shot staggered the larger beast on top of Janele. Blood trickled from a small wound right between the eyes as the boar remained standing but stupefied. A singing echoed through metallic vents, ¡°Qual dolore, qual bruciooooore!¡± ¡°S''avvicinano di qua!¡± ¡°S''avvicinano di l¨¤!¡± echoed from a far vent in the direction they had come. And then from right behind him, ¡°Giunge la Ritirata!¡± Chien ran without looking back. He ran past the already extinguishing fire as Janele kicked the dying boar off her body. Squeaks and squeals echoed from every vent. Opera singing rang behind the walls. Chien kicked the body of the big tusked boar to provide an improvised obstacle. Two more boars entered the tunnel from behind them and readied a charge. ¡°We need to run.¡± ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± "No!" He put a hand to Lizbet¡¯s face. The pupils of both eyes were cloudy and she wasn¡¯t focusing on anything. She shivered at his touch. Tears ran down her cheeks. ¡°Get on my back, tell your goblin to follow us,¡± He looked at Janele as Lizbet clutched his shoulders and hopped up, ¡°I only have a few more bullets. And I have to make them work for us.¡± ¡°Goblin, listen to the detective for now.¡± Janele kicked the nearby boar corpse against the others. The revving of an engine followed a bellowing note. ¡°INFINITAAAAAA!¡± ¡°You and the goblin, run ahead and clear the path!¡± The two large boars charged together, side by side. From a distance behind the dead boar barricade, Chien fired his Makarov. Lizbet winced while clutching his shoulders. The shots landed, one right between the eyes of both boars. They didn¡¯t slow their charge. Smoke poured from the tube-like tusks along their sides. The air felt unbreathable, dizzying. This stinky smog was bad news. Chien hoisted Lizbet a bit more stably and ran. Maybe the barricade would slow them down? He heard them slip and grunt as they crashed into it. No way he was going to look back now. He hoped a run speed in the seventies and back strength in the fifties, whatever that meant, would be enough. Squeals echoed from vents and caverns. ¡°SqeaaaaaliiiisiMO!" 55. The Hunt Continues A whip cracked. The beast slid down the runny slope into the caverns of the ancient library. Six legs splashed mud as it swerved sixty degrees upon exiting the tunnel. The goblin rider stomped his feet against the creatures back while pulling on the reigns. The skid hitched to the leathery harness missed the wall of the tunnel by inches. The whip cracked again. The bite-bite-mite lifted its spindly legs. ¡°Moooooooooore!¡± The mite wailed. Its multiple mouth tipped tubes tied together by twine into two portions, neither of which could reach the pool surrounding it. They gnashed so the goblin rider tugged on the twine. The tubes squeezed together as twine rubbed over the small chitinous plates barely protecting softer flesh. Teeth clamped shut as chittering escaped the small mandibles at the head. The rider rode the beast into the goblin camp on a dry plain rising from the murk. Several hills and stalagmites surrounded it. Long hairy legs pounded clay-like ground. It came to a halt in the middle of camp. A portal platform containing a sigil of subdued purple glowed nearby. Several goblins, some with stone swords and others with wooden staffs, stood guard there. Small fires burned around it. Fat worms and skinny rats cooked for those huddling near them. Pikes were stacked in neat circles. Hide mats sat in stacks on makeshift pallets made from the rotten wood of salvaged bookshelves. A goblin holding a large gnarled staff called to those at the fires. They grunted as they shuffled to unload the mite rider¡¯s cargo. Logs, mushrooms, bricks, stones, and ceramic pots holding preserved food were unloaded as they detached the pallet from the mite¡¯s harness. Mike observed the arrival of the giant mite until it stopped moving and the cargo finished being unloaded. He commanded a flattened hill overlooking a vast flat expanse of runny mud that soaked ankle deep. Hidden within the mud were deep pits, but the goblins knew most of their locations. Fifty warriors armed with spears and daggers stood facing the dimly lit expanse in five lines of ten. Two smaller formations of ten archers formed two lines to the back of the rectangular pike formations. Sollerets chopped a mushroom at the stem as Mike shuffled. Dung laden mud clung to his greaves. Carrie¡¯s arms hugged around his neck. Dry leather wrapped his shoulders. Withered lips kissed at his left ear. Shriveled fingers rubbed at his cuirass. ¡°They¡¯re doing fine love. We should try to go a little softer.¡± ¡°Please, you¡¯re always taking their side. Spare me your love of these vile creatures. Would you prefer to take one of them as your lover?¡± ¡°Dearest love, don¡¯t say such hurtful things.¡± The elder goblin sat hunched over a wooden throne as the knight spoke to the corpse. Mildew grew in the scraggly hair and over the leather armor. The humidity of the library made exposed skin peel off the bone. A single thin pillow cushioned the elder¡¯s scrawny bottom from the lumpy log seat. A thin scratched elbow with saggy skin pushed against a splintery arm rest as he struggled to keep his head up and eyes open. The goblin mage stood to the right of his village elder with his skull tipped staff raised. A glowing orb above them provided a soft even glow. A makeshift table made from dried fungus and twine served as Mike¡¯s desk. Library cabin maps rested on it. Gauntlets pressed the material. Mike stared at the top map as he leaned over the table. He glanced to a tall stalagmite, where a beefy goblin almost as tall as himself stood on the elevated ground. Mike decided on giving him a new name: Grug. This muscular goblin with his overshot jaw looked like a miniature neanderthal with pointed ears. He wielded a club of compacted fungi tied with twine. Thorns interlaced the bindings. The club never left him. For now, it hooked to his back strap as he munched on a soft looking blue moss from a large cloth bag. A scout approached from the caverns. Feet arched with each dip into the water to minimize the splash. Wirey calves tensed as he darted from column to stalagmite until he reached the path. Bare knee pushed into the soft soil as it knelt before Mike, who slapped his gauntlet covered hands over the table before pointing to the hunched village elder sagging on his makeshift throne.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ¡°Go speak to your leader.¡± The goblin scout raised, bowed, and crept toward the village elder. Mike took a break from surveying his forces to listen to them chatter in that crude goblin noise. If it wasn¡¯t for his love, he¡¯d have already slit their throats to end the suffering of his ears. The noise continued far too long. ¡°Get to the point of it. What have you discovered? Where is she? We¡¯ll move camp immediately.¡± ¡°Calm yourself dearest, they¡¯re doing their best.¡± ¡°They¡¯re doing they¡¯re best. They¡¯re doing their best! Would you shut it you goblin loving-¡± ¡°Really Michael!? Really!?¡± The village elder rolled his eyes, then stretched his hunched back and stood. His legs trembled for a bit, then stilled, ¡°He has yet a bit more information. Please be patient and I¡¯ll tell you what I have learned.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t think of lying or you¡¯ll taste my steel in the name of Azoria.¡± ¡°You wound us, sir knight. We are Azoria¡¯s humble serv-¡± ¡°Bloody ¡®ell! Get on with it then!¡± Mike narrowed his eyes as the village elder exchanged some final bits of information with the scout, who stepped back to the side of the throne and knelt waiting. The village elder used his staff as a crutch as he approached the knight and knelt on one knee. ¡°A new hunting party arrived. Three of your kind. Servants of Azoria bearing the mark on the back of their right hands. They slew a bite-bite-mite on their own. Our scouts suspect they are searching for Azoria¡¯s quarry as well. Would you know them?¡± ¡°Perhaps I do. It¡¯s no matter to you. We¡¯ll proceed as planned. I was here first. Miss Sheffield¡¯s head belongs to me. What further details about this party?¡± ¡°Two men and one woman. The leader wields a medium sword with deadly precision. The woman has strange time powers. And the third is a dark skinned of your kind that summons hands of earth.¡± ¡°I see.¡± ¡°Sir knight, if this group fulfills the will of Azoria, what more does it matter? I¡¯ve already lost several cherished sons in this pursuit.¡± The village elder found a sword pointed against his throat. The wizard turned with his upraised staff. The light above them flickered. Grug raised his club as his muscles tensed. The village elder raised his hand slowly with two slow waves of his fingers. He said nothing as the tip of the sword poked his collar bone. Nobody moved further. ¡°Did these warriors have armor and weapons granted by Azoria herself?! The only reason you still have command of your pitiful tribe is your ability to translate. But don¡¯t push it. Your kind must obey the strongest. If we say jump, you will ask how high. And if you refuse, we will bring justice in the name of Azoria until the rest of you fall in line. Do I make myself clear? Or must we demonstrate the full extent of our powers, right here, right now, before you understand?¡± ¡°Mike, love, calm down a bit, won¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t tell me to calm down. They test my patience with their crude stupidity! Your kindness is wasted on these wretches. I swear to all that is holy!¡± The village elder gripped his staff with both hands and nodded weakly. Grug put his club back over his back and stuffed blue moss in his mouth. ¡°We are in your service sir knight, but should you decide I am unworthy to serve, I willingly offer my life in exchange for my kin. In the name of Azoria, don¡¯t sacrifice my kin in vain.¡± The sword slid back in its sheath, ¡°At least you know your place. Have the scouts learned anything of actual value? Like where our target ran off too?¡± The elder hobbled to the table, pulled a map from the bottom of the pile, and spread it open. A trembling finger pointed on the map, ¡°Here, about five thousand steps distance, our scouts discovered a roach wall. They could not break through it. Those who tried were consumed. We believe the one you search for hides there.¡± ¡°And what plan have you idiots devised for dealing with those insects?¡± The elder pointed to the bite-bite-mite that had just arrived in the encampment. The mite stretched its tied feeding tubes toward the spiky cavern ceiling as the rider kept it still by pulling on reigns tied around its stubby head. ¡°Graktork is a fine beast tamer and rider. That mite will make quick work of those vermin once its tubes are released. It will obey him and devour only what it is told, so long as he is on its back.¡± Mike examined the beast, ¡°It¡¯ll make a fine mount. Carrie and I will ride with Graktork.¡± The village elder¡¯s head listed. He looked at his feet as he clung to his staff, ¡°I¡¯d advise against it, sir knight. I can arrange to have your party carried by litter.¡± ¡°A litter, what are you implying?¡± ¡°Our strongest porters will make sure that your feet do not touch the mud.¡± ¡°And why can¡¯t we ride the beast?¡± ¡°It won¡¯t recognize Graktork¡¯s commands with others upon it. I¡¯m very sorry. The weight of your armor could cause you to sink into it. If you find yourself inside the beast, you¡¯ll have to cut yourself out before the acids burn you. That would leave us with nothing to deal with the roaches. Our tribe has only one tamed biter-mite.¡± ¡°Fine. Have any other hunter parties been spotted?¡± The goblin elder pursed his lips, ¡°Nothing of further interest has been reported.¡± Mike waved his gauntlet covered hand with a wave to dismiss the elder from the conversation. The old goblin hobbled back to his makeshift throne. ¡°Prepare a litter for my party. The hunt begins.¡± 56. The Director The eastern entrance chamber of Azoria¡¯s tower contained an interior basilica supported by Tuscan columns. Behind the columns were wide aisles where flaming torches lined stone walls. They lit sharp carvings in an ancient script etched into the granite. Small pallets of wrapped packages sat stacked against the murals. Arched stone columns supported the pinnacle of the wide interior basilica. A sigil of crisscrossing arced lines glowed with a soft violet on a raised platform. Above this portal, a glowing ball of light hung suspended. The smooth granite floor glimmered in the lights without a speck of dust to mar its shine. No soot fell from the torches. Seven knights clad in steel armor stood around the portal waiting. The insignia of Dafnoli, a tightly wound sausage, raised from the centers of their breast plates and shields. Steel swords held in leather sheaths were buckled to their armor. A wide space surrounding the platform provided plenty of room for other hulvins to work. Azoria statues stood in front of each Tuscan column with their arms outstretched, palms faced upwards. Pure white marble without flaw or discoloration flowed from head to toe. Some statues had a resting face, while others the slightest of a smirk. This alternated randomly between the twelve statues surrounding the portal basilica. Occasionally, a pronounced smirk would curl on a statue¡¯s lip. Nobody saw the faces move, only the final results. Three leather clad rangers stood guard at the wide eastern tunnel that led to the exit. A twinkle of daylight reached the basilica along with a chill breeze from the badlands. To the west, an unlit tunnel followed a gentle slope downward. The darkness of the western tunnel tried to creep into the basilica while a team of Hulvin warriors worked to build a barrier of stacked stone and brick. In the aisles to the north and south, openings in the walls between slabs of carved granite led into unlit narrow paths. A knight equipped with shield, sword, and pike, stood guard over each. A man in fine armor watched the team reinforce the barricade with stones and clay. More workers entered with stone-laden carts. The three knights, two rangers, healer, and the mage holding the position helped to unload. He grumbled, the turned to walk toward a collection of stools. Armor clanked a bit with each step toward a sitting woman armored in fine red leather. Golden blonde hair flowed in streaks. Her bright blue eyes shone typically of the higher hulvin. Long pointed ears bounced slightly as she turned her head. A quiver of silverish arrows rested on her back alongside an ornate silver-gray bow shaped like a formation of clouds. She took delicate bites from a red apple. ¡°You look worried Donovan,¡± she said. ¡°Of course I¡¯m worried. We lost good people taking this tower and building the fortress nearby. Now the beacon decides to light, when we finally had them scattered. There¡¯s going to be hell to pay on the front lines. And we have to worry about what this tower has planned instead of reinforcing our army. So much for killing Demonians.¡± ¡°Well, the portal is lit. Nobody is daring to get too close. The gates to the tunnel opened. We¡¯re not venturing to the first floor. That¡¯s what it wants. As soon as something comes through that portal, we ambush it. We use the tower against itself by creating a choke-point. If we get overwhelmed, we fight a slow retreat back to Fort Gerard. If we can¡¯t keep this pass open for at least a week, the entire central army is stranded.¡± ¡°Thousands of years of silence and it has to light now, during a cleansing. It¡¯s been open for hours though. Not so much as a flare since the portal lit. Not so much as a sound from the tunnel. Maybe everything down there died?¡± Donovan suddenly smiled, ¡°I think your lover is back.¡± Soft footsteps accompanied by heavy breathing came from the entrance. A short woman in leather armor ran forward between the torches. Curly brown hair bounced. ¡°Aliiiiiicia!¡± Marigold waved to get their attention. Her elongated ears were more rounded, indicating she was more hu than vin. Alicia put the half-eaten apple on a small stand and stood up to raise her arms in a long healthy stretch. That allowed Marigold to pounce. Arms wrapped around her armor. Lips warmed her cheek before Marigold nuzzled her. ¡°Alicia! I missed you!¡± ¡°We were only apart for a day silly. What news from the General? Any change in our orders?¡± ¡°It¡¯s just like you thought. They want us to secure the portal until our forces can retreat. You¡¯re so smart Captain; it¡¯s like you predicted the orders in advance as soon as the beacon lit.¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Alicia set Marigold¡¯s leather boots firmly on the granite. She barely reached Alicia¡¯s neck in height. ¡°Are they going to reinforce Fort Gerard? Or do they want us to pull back with the retreating army to the Imperial border?¡± ¡°Once the army has moved south, we¡¯re to move south with them.¡± ¡°Captain,¡± one of the mages called from the improvised barrier, ¡°If the legends are true. The first arrivals will be a trickle. It took months for the waves to materialize. By then our armies will be ready behind our fortified border.¡± Alicia nodded, ¡°If we¡¯re lucky. It¡¯s all just a distraction based on thousands of years of stories.¡± Marigold shifted her hip, ¡°But you saw how bright that red beacon was! It erased the stars wherever it touched the sky for a whole hour! I was told it lit the night sky undiminished even in Dafnoli! Aren¡¯t you the least bit scared boss?¡± A leather glove ruffled Marigold¡¯s hair, ¡°It¡¯s been hours with nothing to show for it except a glowing portal stand and an open tunnel door. I¡¯m sure we can manage whatever it throws at us.¡± Marigold leaned into the nuzzling and the soft scritches. Donovan took a seat on a wood chair tied with twine. He took count of the forces in his head. The finest warriors were deployed right here with him and Alicia. This included the knights ringing the portal and their reinforcements. They had two healers to sustain their knights against multiple waves. The crack team reinforcing the dungeon descent had experience in chokepoint defense. They had distinguished themselves by eliminating entire goblin hordes outnumbering them in the hundreds. Surrounding the tower was a garrison of regulars one hundred strong, with another force of one hundred regular pike wielders supported by a strong captain and a contingent of mages behind the stone walls of Fort Gerard. But these numbers would balloon in the thousands as the Imperial calvary and legions returned on the way home. They just had to hold out and keep supplies flowing north. Donovon rested his arms over his leg plates. Everything felt quiet. He heard a woman laughing, then another, and another. The statues were laughing. He looked at the smirking marble white face of the Demonian version of Azoria smirking upon his knights. His foot began to jump, which made his armor rattle. He forced himself to stop his restless leg. Then came the sound of leather sole slapping stone. It was ever so soft, indicative of leisurely stroll. Donovon made his way to the barricade. He silenced his men. Alicia gathered her rangers. Marigold made a hand signal to her mages. Anyone who had been resting stood quietly, fully alert. Clop... clip... clop... clip... The gentle sound echoed from the depths below. Then it stopped. ¡°Cast a mage light, send it into the tunnel,¡± Donovan ordered. The mage lifted his wand. A ball of blue light formed at the tip. He pulled back his wand and smacked it forward. It became stuck on the downward slope of the ceiling. The mage cast another, this time making sure to angle his strike downward. Someone was down there! A thin, gangly man in a crisp black suit, white shirt, and black tie winced in the sudden light. Black leather shoes shone with a bit of polish. He had bronzed skin, a bit wrinkled. His oily black hair slithered in snaky streaks over his bald head. His broad smile revealed yellowing crooked teeth. He had a small cane with a bronze ball handle. The tip tapped at his feet. He stood frozen, cane touched the floor while his smile refused to waver. Donovan waved over Alicia, who cautiously approached the barricade and peered down at the smiling man. ¡°Is it a hulvin? Look at his ears. It¡¯s like someone cropped them.¡± Alicia leaned forward, ¡°Hello down there! We mean no harm. What are you doing in this place. Have you gotten lost.¡± The man stood in place with a big toothy grin. ¡°An old man with cropped ears? He looks a lot les threatening than a horde of goblins. Why isn¡¯t he moving? What¡¯s with that smile? Hey! Old man! Say something before we release the arrows! Did you get lost? Did you get trapped in here? Are you okay?¡± She turned to the others, ¡°It¡¯s a dungeon illusion. It wants us to go further inside to trap us. Just let it alone and it¡¯s harmless.¡± The tap of a cane echoed up the corridor once more, ¡°Ask not for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for thee. It tolls, for thee.¡± The mage light went out. Arrows flew against the barricade. Donavan picked up a crude stone goblin arrow. ¡°Is this a joke? Don¡¯t let them provoke you! We hold the portal room. If this is all they have-¡± ¡°Moooooo!¡± Two Mogg-taurs stood back-to-back on the platform, each fifteen feet tall, muscles flexing across their limbs. Each held a giant iron ax in their right hands. A supply sack hung strapped on their hairy backs. A huge fist lifted a knight off his feet. A sword clanged on the floor. The knight¡¯s neck went through the hand of an Azoria statue. Skin stretched as the weight of his armor pulled flesh apart. The body clattered to the granite floor as the head remained seated in the marble palm. A fountain of blood gushed around Azoria¡¯s pale fingers and dripped into the pool flowing from an open neck. On the other side of the portal, an iron ax blade cleaved the head of an unwary knight apart. The Mogg-taur swung the back of its giant axe for the next knight before the first body collapsed. A rush ensued to back up into the aisles and grab the helmets that had been deemed too uncomfortable previously. The scent of fresh blood filled the chamber. The giant beasts stomped off the platform. A stinky methane laden gas shot out their nostrils with each snort. Waves of goblin arrows smacked against the barrier from the dark descending tunnel. Donovan unsheathed his long sword and turned to face the Mogg-taurs. Alicia took cover behind a statue and knelt to fire her bow. Marigold took position at the barricade. A ball of yellow flame grew huge above her left hand. It licked at her curling hair. 57. Non-player Characters The knight slammed against the wall. Red spewed from his lips as he slid under the outstretched arms of marble Azoria. A healer rushed to take cover behind the pillar. A clank. A squirt. A spray of red mush splattered the statue. Before healing magic could be used, a giant iron ax split the knight¡¯s head. Donovan positioned his long sword extended from his hip as he ran towards the beast¡¯s legs. The burlap bag on the Mogg-taur¡¯s back squirmed. A small blade with a serrated back broke through before it tore down the fabric. A man in green and brown military fatigues appeared. The badge of a park service ranger decorated each of his sleeves and his front pocket. Brown leather military boots hit the floor. The tall man rushed forward. A long steel blade stopped cold against the steel of a combat knife. Donovan stared frozen at the result, then a kick to his waist sent him staggering. Two knights steadied their commander as the Mogg-taur stomped forward past the man with a snort. Steam shot from its nostrils. Eyes glowed red. The man pointed at the knights. The beast charged forward swinging its giant iron ax.

Wamugunda Gakuru

Beast Keeper Donovan¡¯s sword met the ax. The iron blade smashed against the steel against the steel continuously with a speed and force that didn¡¯t diminish. Two knights rushed forward. The beast parried a blow and sent one staggering back. It returned to bashing Donovan¡¯s sword. Arrows flew against its back. The man with the combat knife stalled the sword of another knight before it could slice the beast¡¯s legs. A cloud patterned bow drew back and held steady. A swirling power flowed into the arrow. Alicia aimed at the nose of the Mogg-taur hammering at Donovan. The fire and ice projectiles from the mages barely scratched the Mogg-taur swinging away at the other side of the basilica. The rangers pelted it with arrows, though most bounced off. ¡°In the name of the one true Azoria, I humbly plea, give me the power to vanquish the foes of our race so that we may prosper for ten thousand years.¡± A cold grasping hand clutched her right shoulder. The arrow flew off the mark. It¡¯s wind magic exhausted itself against an unbreakable statue. Alicia froze as a hot breath licked her ear; sharp teeth nibbled her flesh. Nothing visible stood behind her. Yet she heard the strange voice that had laughed earlier. ¡°You honestly dare invoke that false deity in my tower? It¡¯s not going to work here. You wish for a cleansing so badly? Congratulations. Wish granted.¡± Alicia hit the aisle wall. Her hand opened to release her bow. It slid under blood-stained boat shoes. A blonde girl with blood crusting in her short hair stood illuminated in the torch light. Soft blue eyes flickered. Red and dark stains spattered a dress so completely it looked heavy. Alicia lunged for her bow. The woman kicked it up into her hand while backstepping. She giggled, ¡°Such a cute bow! Would you mind passing the quiver?¡± The bloody dagger of an imperial mage dripped in her hand. She wasn¡¯t wearing armor or enhancing equipment. Alicia breathed heavily, unstrapped the quiver, and tossed it to the bloody woman. The arrows were caught in the same hand that held the bow. ¡°You¡¯re really beautiful. Are you a quest flag? Does this bow have a special ability? Do you have dialogue options?¡± A knight charged from behind with a sword to skewer the woman threatening a ranger captain. The human side-stepped from the charge. The bloody dagger thrust through the open visor of the knight¡¯s helmet with one swift maneuver.
Skill Description
Unhealing Wound Novice Novice 37 Any wounds you inflict via melee attacks cannot be affected by healing magic for thirty-seven minutes.
¡°You can leave if you don¡¯t want to die. I won¡¯t chase you. I hope to interact with you again later!¡±

Anastashia Mikhailovna Golubeva

Bloody Gymnast Anastashia vanished with her new bow. A scream echoed through metal as the knight clutched his visor. He tried to remove his helmet with a dagger still lodged in his face. Steel cut bone and the blood flow increased. Alicia laid the knight down and started a healing spell while slowly removing the dagger from his face. Blood spurted from the wound that refused to respond to her magic. The cloud bow swung like a baseball bat as Anastashia burst from the aisle. The helmet of a knight clanked as it was knocked sideways by it. She frowned. A second knight lunged with sword swinging, but she was gone. A flamingo posture helped her stand on one of Azoria¡¯s outstretched palms. Fragile ice shards flew against the statue as Anastashia shifted and twirled to avoid them. Gleeful blue eyes smiled at the hulvin combatants. The incantations without the name of Azoria produced fragile ice shard that flew off the mark. The knights raised their swords to attempt a slice at the bloody boat shoes. Anastashia leapt over them quietly. Mogg-taurs roared in the background. The bow hit like bat over the exposed skull of a mage. A crack followed spurts of blood over the cloud pattern across the upper limb. The ice mage fell. A fire mage behind her formed a ball of flame in his palm. Teeth shattered as the center of the bow slammed his mouth. The fireball shot into the air like fireworks. The knights she¡¯d leapt over spotted her.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Wanna see me do it again?¡± The bow slammed into the fire mage¡¯s mouth. This time with more teeth cracking and cheek tearing power. Eyes rolled as the mage shrunk down clutching his bloody mouth. The palm of another smirking Azoria statue received Anastashia¡¯s feet as she leapt out of reach of a swinging and piercing swords. Toes stretched as she twirled while hugging a blood-soaked bow decorated with torn flesh. A sword flung at her. The tip blunted as it hit an Azoria statue¡¯s chest. The blade clanged against the floor. Anastashia laughed, ¡°This game is divine. The way these NPCs feel when I kill them, it¡¯s so realistic. It¡¯s challenging without being bullshit. I¡¯m never going to have enough of this. I can even taste their blood! I couldn¡¯t be happier to be a player! It¡¯s positively divine!¡± The knights raised their swords to try and reach her feet again. Arrows flung at her, not one getting close. The Mogg-taur snorted before it tackled them from the side. It stomped over their armor. The iron blade of its massive ax chopped loudly. Anastashia jumped on the creature¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Uh oh! The AI in this game doesn¡¯t pay attention to its surroundings! What do you think Guns?¡± Wamugunda stood on the shoulder of his Mogg-taur with his boots apart and arms folded across his chest. He frowned as his mount took an arrow in the bicep while compressing a knight¡¯s head inside the mishappen armor of a crushed helmet. ¡°I thought you were supposed to take care of the unarmored foes?¡± ¡°Sorry, the metal men keep chasing me and my legs are getting tired. But two of their healers are gone! Killed them first before anyone even noticed me.¡± Donovan, taking a short breather, watched their conversation from the aisle while clutching his long sword. He could understand them. They spoke Common, but the accent was distinctly demonic. His breath came heavy as sweat washed splattered blood down the bridge of his nose. Behind him, Marigold fired magic blasts from the barricade into the dungeon tunnel. Two knights in front of the barricade sliced at a formation of goblins. The green bodies piled up to form a second barricade. Goblins with shields and spears took to the front to advance in formation. ¡°This isn¡¯t typical goblin behavior!¡± Marigold went forward between them. ¡°I¡¯m going to burn this entire tunnel!¡± She pulled a mini bow and arrow from her belt. The arrow had a small hook and the back was attached to a reel. Marigold fired it above the heads of the goblin force. Fire magic spread down the string, burning it. A blast followed. Goblin parts splattered against the barricades. The fire continued down the string to the next explosion point.
Skill Description
Death''s Bargain You can use [Vacuum Theory Novice 01], Power of FATALITY John Dimms, Unfortunate Spaceman. Once a day you can create a vacuum in a space of ten-by-ten meters for up to twenty seconds.
The fire stopped. The explosions stopped. Marigold breathed heavily as she watched goblins ahead of the formation and her knights spurt blood from their mouths. They collapsed. She reached forward and felt flecks of sweat and blood on her arm boil their moisture off her skin to leave only salt and dark crust. The healer rushed forward. Marigold barred the way with an outstretched arm and shook her head. ¡°They can¡¯t be saved. Get back behind the barricade. We¡¯re retreating. Alicia, call the retreat!¡± The man with cropped ears smiled from deep inside the tunnel. She could see his teeth in the flickers of goblin torches. Marigold jumped behind the barricade after the healer as goblins filed past the still smiling stranger. Donovan held his ground alone against Wamagunda¡¯s Mogg-taur. Arrows flew past the rider¡¯s face, but didn¡¯t shake him. He remained on the beast¡¯s shoulder, arms crossed. An arrow sunk into the chest of the Mogg-taur that protected him. He shifted his stance while clutching his blade. Anastashia¡¯s Mogg-taur tossed its ax at the exposed ranger who dared fire the arrow. The swirling weapon¡¯s blade separated the lower and upper body. Laborers who had been loading supplies fled toward the exit. Anastashia shook her head, ¡°Tshk, tsk, my free stats are getting away.¡±
Skill Description
Manuever Burst Apprentice 05 You can perform maneuvers for thirty seconds with agility, speed, and stamina increased by 500 percent. This skill can be used three times a day. This skill levels with use of the agility stat.
A rush of air followed a loud smack. A man fell face first against the floor. The crushed back of his skull bled out. Bloody Anastashia stood before them. ¡°Please, I have a fam-¡± Smacks and pops echoed from the hall. The second Mogg-taur blocked the main exit as Donovan and his remaining knights sliced at the legs of the other. The remaining healer crouched behind Donovan. Alicia backed against the aisle wall while biting her finger. Those hot words, that hot breath, and what the bloody woman had said kept repeating in her head. Marigold ran to Alicia, shaking her. ¡°Where¡¯s your bow, what happened?¡± ¡°They took it. A cropped ears took it. They¡¯re too powerful. We¡¯re going to die here! Marigold, I don¡¯t want to die! I don¡¯t want to lose you!¡± ¡°Gruaaaggh!¡± The clang of iron struck steel repeatedly. Donovan¡¯s legs snapped. Blood spurted from the greaves. The healer knelt behind him with a constant stream of magic pouring into those legs. Wamugunda jumped down from his mount to put a ranger in a strangle hold. The combat blade sunk cleanly into neck meat as it slid deeper into the incision. Anastashia took her time walking past the minotaur as she came back to the chamber. An arrow flew at her, but she smacked it away with the bloody cloud bow. ¡°These arrows are getting annoying considering the hit box complexity can screw you.¡± Goblins swarmed the remaining knight and mage at the barricade. They spread outward to attack the healer and the remaining knights. The footsteps tapping up the halls asserted themselves even amidst the grunts of the Mogg-taurs. Anastashia attacked a wounded ranger while still using her bow like a bat. ¡°Get out of here! I¡¯ll buy you time!¡± Donovan shouted. Marigold grabbed Alicia¡¯s hand and pulled her toward the narrow southern hall. They ran into the narrow darkness of the side passage. The sounds of fighting abated. The tapping of dress shoes faded. A ranger screamed. Donovan¡¯s armor clattered against the marble floor. A giant iron ax struck stone. Laughter flowed. Two Mogg-taurs roared. The statues laughed hysterically. 58. Ninety-nine Luck. Circe ran. A mass of brown, tan, and putrid green roaches skittered over her. The colorful roaches remained distant. These roaches were camouflage. A clump of mud with violet glowing eyes full of squiggling static insanity stomped forward. Frenetic chemical energy. Her leg burned inside, but she could put weight on it. Pain didn¡¯t mean much as a warning when it was everywhere all the time dialed to eleven. Every inch of her skin felt like it was peeled open and being stabbed with a million needles. Is this what a full body tattoo felt like? The leg didn¡¯t feel broken. Good enough, as her mom would say. Circe missed her so much that her chest heaved. Her head ached. Shifting mud splooshed under her feet. The pool beckoned her to collapse, to roll, to drink deeply until it filled her ventilated lungs. Tendrils pulsed across her. She grabbed them, felt them. Tendrils pierced skin. The purplish glow of their ethereal lengths slid across the top of her head under the cover of skittering roaches. Somehow, the tendrils transferred less of the pain to the roaches. It meant more pain for her, but allowed them to cloak her. Each breath scented her insectoid capsule with bloody rot. Puss ejected from the hole in her chest. Breathing eased ever so slightly. Every tendril felt spiritual in nature, yet somehow, she caught them, detected them feasting on the visceral pains they inflicted. Somehow, she injected them with her mana. Make them smarter. Circe fed her torturers¡¯ intelligence, one by one, yet felt it build within their collective being. If they wanted to kill her, they would have done so. If they wanted her to die, they wouldn¡¯t have fixed her leg or reattached her hand. These marks belonged to her. She would harness them. They would become her tool, but only if her sanity could survive this level of pain. Thoughts couldn¡¯t sort themselves. At times she saw faces, or heard conversations. Alfredo. Ebony slept on a comfy bed hugging a pillow. Then Azoria danced flamenco while her parents scolded. Static. The room. A broken television. More static and roaches burned over the floor as Alfredo banged on the door demanding money. Her heart went into the roof of her mouth. Her broken and torn hand clutched her stomach. Icy stabbing pain pulsed from her inside like a drum beat. Lungs revolted as bloody puss shot forth from cracked lips. This wasn¡¯t vomit. It came from her lungs! Now it ran down her neck. Survive. Get out of this dungeon and survive. Go anywhere, hide. Find a solution to make the pain go away. Fingers clenched. Rusty nails pushed through her feet with each step. Circe ran. Thumbs pried at her glowing eyes. The half-moon marks never stopped watching, burning, glowing, killing. Burned razors slid along her arms and legs like picks over the strings of a guitar. Skin peeled away. Ebony screamed at her about a bounced check. Tigers clawed inside her stomach. More! She sensed a tendril untouched by her powers. Mana flowed; the stupid parasite would be permanently buffed in intelligence. This was her power. It was about time she used it. ¡°Hurt me more you stupid bastards! Hurt me more! Do you think I¡¯m not strong enough to feed you!? I LIKE IT! I make you stronger! I¡¯m your freaking GOD!¡± she croaked. Tears washed her face. Roaches crawled in her mouth. They picked the rot from between broken teeth. They dropped small beads of water from the stalactites and returned tears to a dry tongue. The walls of this dreary cave enclosed everything. Did she even know where to go? Where could she find an exit? Soft upraised ground provided no cover. Muck threatened to consume her. How could she escape? This endless labyrinth just kept going and going and going with the same bleak walls, the same dirty water, the same mounds, and the same stupid glowing mushrooms. There was no right answer. Right answer! Legs trudged across the foul pool until her hand rested against the nearest rough wall. Turn right! Nails scratched against the hardened feces she followed. Wouldn¡¯t going right only work if all the walls of this labyrinth were connected? Hmmm, maybe she could keep moving until she found an outer wall and then turn right. If she found herself going in circles she could go straight to the next wall after five right turns, right? This cavern was so huge though. A series of looping paths and wide-open spaces supported by pillars surrounded her. Would she ever find the outer wall? Did it even count as a labyrinth? Maybe this was the wrong strategy for getting out of this place. What else could she do for now? She ran her index finger lightly along the wall. The nail slowly peeled off, but she couldn¡¯t feel the pain of such minor injuries anymore. One right turn led to a long walk that led to another right turn. A few more minutes of forcing herself forward led to another right turn. A pillar marked the entrance into a cave. Nothing ever worked out for her. What happened to maxed luck!? Thinking blurred. Static filled her head as she entered. As she felt the wall, the loose scratchy stone became more linear. Something squeaked. Rats scurried across a flat floor covered in dirt and stones. They didn¡¯t bother her.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Roaches tracked into the cave hall. She hoped they did a decent job of disguising the entrance until she got back. A dim vein of phosphorescent stone lit the lower ceiling as she went further in. The air became dryer. Wood shelves lined the walls. Fingernails scraped along the crumbling stone bricks until her palm slapped a splintery bookshelf. Dried tomes lined the shelves. She blinked, then pressed her eyes shut. When she opened them, she noticed a rat glaring down from the top of the shelf. Slowly, her left hand reached to pull a moss eaten tome by the spine. It crumbled into a dry powder. More little brown mouse pellets remained than book. Circe snorted as she clawed deeper. Dried heaps of dust fogged the air. Rat feces scattered across the floor. The moist splinters of a mossy peat fell from her palms. These were corpses. Books come here to die. Circe put her head on the creaky shelf and cried. It felt as if it might disintegrate under her weight. Shards from broken pots rested between shelves. She collected two and continued to a dead end. Maybe she¡¯d find a treasure with her burgeoning luck. At the end of the structure, a shattered shelf leaked disintegrating tomes overflowing with silverfish. Three rats scattered into the broken masonry. The pile invited her to sleep. The silverfish were huge, she¡¯d never seen bugs that big. When her grandmother died, they had discovered that her library was infested with them. Most of the books couldn¡¯t be saved. One scurried off as Circe poked it. The pain unrolled from her stomach. Saliva flowed back into her dry mouth. Knees hit the jagged stones. Eat¡­ Broken blood encrusted fingers dug into the pile. The monster, the gremlin, the vile creature, would feast. Circe pulled the fat wriggling insects from the battered remains of books that smelled like mold and urine. They collected in her enclosed fist until she had a good handful. Her palm pushed against her lips. The half-lidded eyes on the back of her hands glowed brilliantly. Not one would escape as she stuffed them inside. They walked on the roof of her mouth and wriggled under her tongue as she chewed. And she did this again, and again, until she could find no more. Back to her feet, she wobbled a bit and listed her head at the thought of what she¡¯d just done. Static. The tendrils caressed her stomach. Nutrients. So this was that. A dead end. Nothing to find or see here. Nothing to remember. Nothing happened here. That disgusting wriggling taste never happened. ¡°HA!¡± Sometimes a dead end was just that. Life had too many of them that never had anything interesting. Utterly boring. Mundane even. ¡°Ha hahaha!¡± A speck on the floor gleamed as she walked away. At the pillar, she carved an X at eye level with one of her two pottery shards. This path had been tread, dead end with nothing. The last thing she wanted to do was walk in circles, but she decided to stick to her plan. She kept walking by following the wall and only going right. It went in a circle? After another stretch of time, she reached the same mushroom cluster she had started this strategy with. But this time she had pottery. She carved a circle into the compact fecal mound with her shard. This would mean she circled this formation. When she came to the next turn again, she drew another circle before moving forward to cross the refuse stream. The runny mud rose to her ankles. A steady flow passed as she trudged forward. She picked at the hole in her chest and felt her rib cage. The bone wasn¡¯t even bloody. It felt dry, like decaying rot. Her finger pushed up. Pain radiated from her knitting ribs. Hissing shot through her mind. The tendrils were angry. What? They didn¡¯t want her interfering with their work? Let work¡­ So much was damaged. So much of her needed replaced. She was becoming more tendril than woman. Static. She thought back to philosophy class. There was this story about a ship that haunted her nightmares. Parts were removed, parts replaced, parts damaged, more parts replaced, until every part had been changed. It was no longer the original ship. Circe began to cry. ¡°I¡¯m not a thesaurus ship¡­¡± Even if she wasn¡¯t the original, she was still a crybaby. That made her feel better. She couldn¡¯t even tell why the thought comforted her so much. She was big crybaby. She was still Circe, in there somewhere, under all this static and pain. If there was something more than matter in the universe, did concept suddenly matter? Would any of these thoughts even occur to her if she was anywhere but here, in this stink hell? How long was this flowing stretch of grime? She¡¯d been walking for minutes. At least that¡¯s what it felt like. Static. A pause. Legs stopped moving. Glowing purple eyes like glass beads scattered the roaches as her head craned back. Mouth opened wide in silence as she stared up into the darkness with a blank gaze. Nothing could be seen; it was too high and too dark. Pot shards clutched against her chest. She could no longer feel tendrils that that could receive her mana. Tomorrow, she promised to make them even smarter. The trek onward continued. Soon water rose to her calves. Roaches floated from her legs and skittered across thick grime. Or they crawled up her thighs to her hips. Why was it getting so deep all the sudden? The caverns rumbled. The flow reversed. Another step forward. Sploosh. Hands reached for help as Circe fell into a sink hole. She struggled back to the surface. It felt like something wrapped her legs. Mud sucked at her bare feet. Pain faded as she kicked. She pushed out of the hole gasping for air, on all fours. It was shallow now? Slfloooosh! A violent tide slammed against her. Her body tumbled. Pottery shards cut into her waist as she refused to let them go. Her back scraped along the floor as it gathered mud. Legs rolled into her arms as her once severed arm stretched. The fierce flow of thigh deep water knocked her over whenever she tried to stand. It pushed her like an angry subway crowd. The sudden mudslide beat her, punched, pushed her sideways. Then it abandoned her. Circe opened her eyes. Only half her head and her right hand extended from the thick mud. Now that it had beat her, it encased her in a suffocating embrace. It pressed, hugged, squeezed, refused her movements. She struggled, wiggled, clawed, and pushed. Her mouth remained just above the shallow water if she craned her neck. Beyond that, she couldn¡¯t move a muscle. This was it; she was over, she couldn¡¯t even move. Roaches moved in to crawl around her head and tickle her fingers. The pottery shards sat next to her right hand. ¡°But my luck is 99!¡± she croaked as a silverfish crawled out of her mouth. 59. Pottery Fingers flexed. Roaches crawled over exposed skin. The few remaining strands of hair on her eviscerated scalp signaled pain. Fingers wiggled. Eyes darted to the shards. Back tensed. Wiggling in place only made her sink deeper. The muck coating her legs wouldn¡¯t allow movement. Her left side pushed into the soil so that her check was nearly wedged into the ground. Shoulder tensed to pull her arm only to pop painfully. This ground was soft and wet moments ago, flowing even. How could it hold her this firmly? Pottery shards rested at the base of her right wrist. Her arm barely extended from the mudslide like a little tower. Dirt pushed around her body. It encased her more tightly. Wiggling her feet proved impossible. Circe squinted and shouted hoarsely. The draining mud compacted all the more.
Notice: Insufficient Strength
¡°This can¡¯t be real! Why help me!? Why let me get this far!? What kind of joke is this!? I can¡¯t take it anymore! I can¡¯t take it. Pleeeeeeease.¡± Sludge gurgled in the distance. The silence of the caverns responded. ¡°Let me out!¡± If she stayed here, she would die here. She couldn¡¯t even scream; all her protests were whispered croaks. Glowing eyes rolled to stare at her hand, the one severed without a chance to heal properly. The half-moon on her forehead flared, then reduced to a gentle glow. It continued pulsing. Tendrils pushed; barely reattached skin pulled as it tore apart. The pale hand flopped. A loose collection of tendrils attached it to the broken arm. Jagged bone pointed at the cavern stalactites. The tendrils firmed, took control. Flayed fingers with barely any skin, most missing nails, grasped the biggest shard. She dug at the compacting clay mud. It was wet enough that she had the strength to dig out little clumps and fling them to the side. A small pile of muddy soil formed as a slight bit of her arm was dug free. Roaches at the top of her head supervised the excavation. Work continued, for how long she couldn¡¯t even tell. The little pit went deeper down her arm. Murky water seeped into the hole, but she dug blindly anyway. Perhaps if she could get to her elbow and shoulder, free this arm, perhaps then she could do more. Then came footsteps. Circe took a few deep breathes through her mouth. The remaining roaches crawled over her. Browns, yellows, dark greens, and blacks blended better than the colors than the colors she¡¯d made earlier. She¡¯d been buffing these roaches as well. But how much would that help? They were still roaches. ¡°Rats. I really don¡¯t like them,¡± Banko adjusted his suit while walking, ¡°Is this really where we¡¯re supposed to be? These are my work clothes. I¡¯m not sure how I feel about ruining them tromping around down here.¡± Nickey stretched, ¡°Fedor evishhcerated those rats. You should have shaved some of the experience for ush.¡± ¡°They are the meat, but not the good meat. I did not have the points from them.¡± Heavy boots sunk into the soft ground as Fedor stomped forward. Water flowed with a gurgling trickle. Drops fell from the ceiling. A few glowing mushrooms along the walls and a dim phosphorescent vein lit the area. The ground sunk under his boots. It didn¡¯t help that he carried Carson on his back. He stopped at the gurgling flowing muck. ¡°I can not be going the further, as I am not good with the swimming. But I am very good with the sinking. I¡¯m sorry, it seems I will not be much helping the searching.¡± ¡°I guess your lard butt would sink, wouldn¡¯t it? Well, it was good knowing you. I guess this is where we go our separate ways. Maybe we can meet up again later. You¡¯ll have to keep Carson, he¡¯s no good in this condition.¡± ¡°Da.¡± Nickey put a hand on her hip, ¡°So we¡¯re jusht gonna break up thish party for your hunt? Why are you sho gung ho about it. Let¡¯s get to the surface and live. I¡¯m shick and tired of this shtupid dungeon.¡± Mark kicked at a glowing mushroom, ¡°And you¡¯re going to abandon a massive power reward because of a little stink in a cave? I thought you were some kind of badass assassin in your past life? I didn¡¯t see you do much against those rats. Lardo and me carried the whole team.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°For your information, they weren¡¯t worth my time!¡± Circe grit her teeth from under the cover her roaches. Why wouldn¡¯t these people go away so she could work on digging herself out? ¡°We could set up camp here,¡± Banko suggested. ¡°And what would that achieve? There¡¯s nothing of value here and it¡¯s twenty minutes back to the portal.¡± A portal? Banko pushed his fingers together, ¡°Well, you see. I don¡¯t know how to swim either. I swim like a hammer. If the water gets deeper than me, I¡¯m done for. And I¡¯m not exactly itching to die in sewage for this quest.¡± Carson weakly raised his hand, ¡°I¡¯m hydrophobic, sorry.¡± Mark flung his palms out, ¡°What the holy hell. Honestly what kind of party did I form here? Because I don¡¯t even know anymore. Brace-face complains about everything. Lardo here can¡¯t stop eating and his obese ass threatens cave-ins. Canadian Kidd is so pathetic he can¡¯t stop apologizing. The only person here who shows any friggen potential is captain jap and his paper pets, but guess what? He can¡¯t swim either! How do we form a party of five people and three of them can¡¯t swim!?¡± ¡°Dude, this isn¡¯t cool, sorry.¡± ¡°And you, don¡¯t get me started on you. Canadian Kidd, the energy drink enthusiast. Is that how you kicked off, overdosing on energy drinks? How the hell do your stats sink to paper doll levels in ten hours!? You¡¯re a liability and if it wasn¡¯t for miss complains a lot, I¡¯d have set you somewhere to die. Because you¡¯re not worth it.¡± ¡°Do what you want.¡± ¡°We¡¯re not letting him die. If we¡¯d jusht go to the surface, we can get supplies. Then he¡¯ll be usheful and he can even continue the hunt if you want to so bad.¡± ¡°By then it¡¯ll be over! And did you not hear Canadian Kidd say he couldn¡¯t swim?¡± ¡°Sorry for being Canadian,¡± Carson said as he clung to Fedor¡¯s back, ¡°Sorry for wanting to survive. I didn¡¯t decide what my curse would be.¡± Nickey felt the crushed glasses in her pocket, ¡°Why do you want to kill that woman sho badly anyway? Does she remind you of shomeone who dumped you? What about thish girl sets you off to the point that you can¡¯t get her out of your head?¡± Mark¡¯s fingers pushed at his badge, ¡°You think this is some sort of obsession? Is that what you think? Well, I don¡¯t know what to tell you. It¡¯s not. I¡¯m doing what¡¯s best for the team. And what¡¯s best for the team is getting us that big promotion. Why is your heart bleeding for a crazed zombie? That¡¯s the kind of attitude that will get you killed here.¡± Nickey¡¯s fist wrapped around the broken spectacles as she looked away. Fedor sniffed as if he smelled something familiar. He stepped toward the edge of the murk where the ground became softer. With his weight he feared becoming stuck. But he spotted an unusual form. The colors were slightly off, like rocks in the mud. The dim light didn¡¯t help, but his keen eyes sensed movement. Insects. Fedor braced and raised his cleaver, but as it swooshed down the roaches parted. The motion of the blade halted before bent into it. A bald squinting head with a peeling and broken scalp pushed from the soil. Its nose, broken and bashed inward, bled. Mouth hung open in order to breath. A half-moon pulsed on its forehead bright enough to get the attention of the entire party. Tears streamed down its cheeks. Eyes opened, also having a pulsing glow. It coughed up blood and water. ¡°Help me?¡± Circe croaked. The baton unclipped from the belt. Mark smacked it against his palm as he strode forward toward Fedor, ¡°Well, would you look at this? Seems like we don¡¯t even need to swim in this crap after all. We don¡¯t even have to fight. The cave did the work for us. Fortune favors the bold! Am I right!?¡± Carson slid off Fedor¡¯s back. With a push, he stumbled back but remained capable of standing on his own. Sneakers shuffled the muddy floor until his back pressed against a rough wall for support. A blubbery arm extended to block the officer from getting any closer. ¡°We will not be killing this one today. We will be digging her out.¡± A screen appeared over Fedor¡¯s head. Another appeared over Nickey¡¯s. They both contained the same message.
Warning: Interfering with those attempting to fulfil a quest directly from Azoria will incur stat reductions and reverse leveling.
Mark snickered, ¡°Don''t fall for the innocent act. This is the perfect chance to end this. Let me stomp her brains out. We just need to bring her head. Azoria didn¡¯t say anything about the condition.¡± He moved quickly. The handle of the cleaver wrapped in Fedor¡¯s meaty fist slammed into the center of his chest. The officer spit as he flew backwards. He lay on his back sprawled across the mud. A notice glowed above Fedor¡¯s head.
Stat Reduction: Minus One Strength
Another glowed above Mark¡¯s.
Stat Growth Bonus: Plus Two Toughness
¡°Are you sure you want to do this fat man!?¡± Mark screamed as he quickly pulled himself up, ¡°Because it¡¯s three against one and we¡¯re gonna wear you down!¡± Nickey stepped back. ¡°Two against one. I refush to participate.¡± ¡°I understand if the zombie isn¡¯t worth your time, but the brute is easy leveling. Are you with me Banko?¡± Two white origami swans circled Banko as his tie began to levitate, ¡°As you say in America, let¡¯s go level up!¡± Fedor turned, grunted, swapped his cleaver to his right hand. Circe dug furiously with her pottery shard. 60. All Is Well That Ends Well. On the throne of skulls, Azoria squirmed. Arms nailed above her head tensed. Toes extended as her feet pulled at the nails holding them together. The harsh seat poked her, but no longer bit. The skulls remained silent; their mouths closed. Hands pulled through nail with a string of half clotted blood hanging like a rope bridge back to the chair. Feet cracked as they pulled through the large nail under the seat. Azoria stretched. With a brisk hop she stood next to the throne of skulls and shook her hands. Blood splattered from her closing wounds. She checked stage left, then stage right, before she returned to the half-shattered podium. The spade of her tail dangled above her head. Elbows dug into the podium while her chin rested on bloody palms. Wounds closed as she watched the remaining players, the slaves and the tormented souls. The lights of the audience chamber maintained full brilliance. Many of the occupants found it difficult to sleep. The flat granite floor didn¡¯t help. Alfredo tried to sleep sitting up against the wall. At least Ebony didn¡¯t have any problems in that department. Kunchen didn¡¯t seem to mind. Alfredo lifted Ebony¡¯s head and legs to roll her gently. The pressure couldn¡¯t be good for the blood flow. It was Kunchen¡¯s idea though. He looked up to the stage. The throne of skulls stood empty. Azoria leaned over the podium. They were all the way across the chamber at the opposite wall, so she looked small. Her eyes reminded him of brake lights in the distance on a sunny day. If he squinted, he could see the hint of her smirk. Alfredo decided to stand. The tour guides were gone, so were the portal chambers they hadn¡¯t been allowed to enter. His hand slid along the wall as he walked. Linh followed him. ¡°Are you okay?¡± Alfredo turned, then took a step back. This idol¡¯s hair dripped down her back. Her wet dress left a trail of drops wherever she walked. It smelt stale, like something out of a clogged drainage ditch. He realized he didn¡¯t want to be around her, not anywhere near her. Stubby fingers ran through his jet-black hair. ¡°No. I want out of this place. I¡¯m sick of waitin¡¯. A friend is out there sufferin¡¯ alone and I can¡¯t stand not knowing. If she¡¯s dead, I wanna find out and put it past me.¡± A distance away, by Ebony, Kunchen sat cross legged with his hands clasped in prayer. Without opening his eyes or looking to his teammates, he spoke so powerfully that everyone¡¯s attention refocused. ¡°The woman is alive. I can sense her spirit. It¡¯s a spirit that refuses to be suppressed. It¡¯s a spirit that¡¯s out of balance. It rages against the cage forced upon it. It rages against the weakness of her body. It rages against the injustices piled upon it. It rages against cruelty. This rage will destroy her. When we are freed from this chamber, I will take us to her. I pray we can reach her before it¡¯s too late. She needs us. Desperately.¡± The old monk returned to his meditation, legs folded, eyes closed, seated on the granite. An electric hiss followed from the ceiling. A few people looked up, but nobody saw anything. Alfredo growled at Linh for following him as he tried to walk away. The feeling of choking on hair accompanied her presence. ¡°Can¡¯t yuh keep tuh distance we already stablished here!¡± ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s just, since I woke up here, you¡¯re one of the first people to even acknowledge my existence. You¡¯re the first person to talk to me. You even asked your friend if he could me with my curse.¡± Alfredo grunted and kept walking. Linh watched him without going any further. Her loafers skidded against the smooth floor. When he was a distance from her that he didn¡¯t feel hair in his throat, Alfredo decided to check her information. The monk kept guard over Ebony, so he wasn¡¯t worried about the doctor choking in her sleep. Maybe he could find a clue as to how to get rid of her.

Linh Hoa

Well Child

Skill Description
Water Gun Novice 04: When near a source of water, you can use your body to transfer and fire water at targets.
Shelter Novice 04: When on soft terrain you have the ability to tunnel underground. Your shelter will eventually assume the form of a well.
Passives Description
Well Magic Novice 04: Your water and earth magic is four percent more powerful than normal.
Four 04: Not Found.
Curses Description
Child Of The Well 04: Anyone acknowledging your presence within two meters will feel tightness in their throat increasing with proximity. Anyone who touches you will experience choking of increasing severity. If you approach within one meter of the Agent Of The Well. You will be banished to the well.
Out Of The Well Novice 04: When you crawl out of the well, those nearby will experience a level of sanity loss dependent on proximity. Those who see you will not be able to look away. You will experience bloodlust for one hour or until someone is choked to death.
Vital Statistics # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat # Substat #
Perception 54 Sight 34 Hearing 84 Touch 34 Awareness 64 Spiritual 94 Nil Nil
Strength 34 Arms 44 Legs 44 Torso 34 Back 14 Grip 34 Nil Nil
Toughness 24 Blunt 34 Slice 04 Pressure 34 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Stamina 74 Heart 74 Lungs 84 Arms 64 Legs 64 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Speed 44 Swim 64 Swing 54 Run 24 Think 34 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Agility 84 Arms 84 Legs 84 Torso 94 Back 84 Fingers 84 Nil Nil
Fortitude 44 Magic Def 34 Mental Def 54 Stability 54 Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil
Intelligence 44 Emotional 74 Scientific 24 Spiritual 24 Interpersonal 54 Bestial 04 Creative 64
Magic 54 Fire 24 Ice 34 Water 74 Wind 64 Earth 64 Nil Nil
Spirit 44 Restoration 14 Illusion 64 Life 04 Dark 74 Light 04 Resistance 64
Luck 14 Money 14 Combat 24 Magic 14 Relational 14 Nil Nil Nil Nil
Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. What was he thinking? This woman was terrifying. She was the well child from that creepy movie. Why would he want the well child on his team? She¡¯d kill them off one by one. Kunchen was right to suggest she couldn¡¯t be helped. What she had become in this word was a huge liability. But he couldn¡¯t afford to enrage her either; she was the well child. Her revenge would be nasty. ¡°Phaolo, is that you?¡± Linh put her hands together. She backed away slightly. Droplets fell from her dress. Wet hair clung to her back as if she was caught in a downpour. Phaolo hobbled to her. His foot! His arm! What the heck was wrong with them? They looked like somebody sewed back on a dead limb. The man had a limp because his left leg went longer than his right on them threads. The right hand hung lower than his left. The flesh was sewn together loosely. Red strands flowed between living and dead looking blue skin. Alfredo backed away from them both. ¡°Linh! I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d find you here. I thought I¡¯d never see you again.¡± Water sprinkled about as she shook her head, ¡°Phaolo stay back. We shouldn¡¯t be too close. You¡¯re hurting me!¡± A dull moan came from underground. For a moment it felt like they were standing on the glass floor of an aquarium instead of a solid sheet of granite. Though Alfredo knew the floor wasn¡¯t completely flat. The slight lines where the granite plates connected were visible if anyone looked carefully enough. Phaolo continued his approach, ¡°That¡¯s nonsense! This is all nonsense. In my world, your voice is the most beautiful and perfect thing I ever heard. That¡¯s why I wanted to promote you. I wanted the world to hear what I heard. I don¡¯t care if you get famous. I don¡¯t care if you sell tickets. Nobody else in this damned world has a voice with your heart, your beauty. I love you! I thought you were gone forever, but you¡¯re here. I¡¯m not letting go of you. I¡¯m never letting go!¡± ¡°Please stay back!¡± she screamed. As he approached almost to arm¡¯s length, a roar echoed through the cave that caught the attention of the remaining players. Linh turned ghostly pale. Lips blackened as her skin grew patterns of black inky veins. She screamed toward Phaolo with eyes dark and dead. He fell backwards. ¡°I am WELL CHILD!¡± Hair clogged Phaolo¡¯s throat as he pushed himself up. Linh pushed her back to the uneven cave walls. Phaolo¡¯s hands wrapped his neck as he tried to breath. Alfredo took several steps back with his fists raised. A stone smacked his forehead. so he looked up. A tube-shaped stone beast burrowed from the ceiling. A piercing shriek shot from the stone opening at the front. Legs of wet black hair in the hundreds extended from cracks in the stone. The beast was more of a structure. Alfredo swore it was a well. It crawled like a centipede. Stone twisted and bulged while the mortar glowed slightly. Sharp needles of hair pierced the wall as the centipede rushed down over Linh to swallow her head first. The mouth of the beast slammed against the granite floor as the legs kept pushing it down. The audience chamber shook forcefully enough that people running to gain distance had trouble remaining standing. Phaolo toppled backwards again. The granite around the stone column forming the centipedes¡¯ body became as liquid, like a gray pool of clay instead of granite flooring. The legs of wound hair skittered as the beast pushed itself into the floor. Finally, as the last of the length wiggled, the wood seal covering the back end creaked. The creature burrowed into the soft liquid clay as Phaolo crawled toward it. It sunk away. Liquid stone flowed over the wood seal in ripples before it firmed back to the unforgiving granite. Phaolo pounded on the smoothed stone. Dead flesh thumped as a middle eastern man with a thick dark mustache knelt behind him and rubbed his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m very sorry, but this place is called the House of the Lie for a good reason my friend.¡± The blood pounded in Alfredo¡¯s ear as he pressed a hand against it. He took a deep breath. Hands rubbed his eyes. It was just one crazy thing after another with this place. From the podium, Azoria giggled. ¡°Well¡­ well, well, well, so much for true love.¡± Her laughter filled the chamber. The sound, as always, evenly heard from every angle in the large space as if she laughed directly in front of everyone. Her slender fist pounded the podium, ¡°Well, as they say. All¡¯s well that ends well!¡± Phaolo clenched his fists as he faced the podium, ¡°You witch! What have you done to Linh!?¡± Azoria morphed in front of him, arms around his shoulders. A tongue like stone slid across his cheek, ¡°Look at you, barely a day has passed and you¡¯re falling apart. I could say you don¡¯t look so- well!¡± He tried to push her off, but her body felt more like statue encasing him than living flesh. Black fingernails clicked over his shoulders before she leaned back and grabbed them. Phaolo froze watching her smirk. She blew on his lips, her breath oppressively hot and bitterly cold. ¡°Stop worrying about Linh. She¡¯s doing very WELL.¡± Phaolo collapsed on fours and wept hysterically as Azoria vanished. The demon lord returned to her podium, where she pounded the cracking wood and laughed. Everyone watched her enjoy herself until the laughing slowly faded. ¡°Well, waiting on you losers was painfully boring. All of you are free to go now. Good luck out there. But I do have to ask, why is everybody waiting at the back? The loser exit is underneath my stage.¡± A jagged splintery tunnel opened under Azoria¡¯s podium, just large enough for one person at a time to crawl through. Azoria leaned her chest over the podium and let her legs lift off the stage as she pushed herself up. ¡°Well, what are waiting for?! Get lost! You have ten minutes before I fill this chamber with toxic chemicals to clean out your loser stink. Hurry up, go on. What are you waiting for, a timer? This isn¡¯t school.¡± The race back to the stage commenced. 61. The Narrow Paths Of Atonement Darrone surveyed the chamber. His eyes narrowed at the new opening under the stage. The demon succubus had just told them to get moving. Trap? He didn¡¯t think so. If she wanted them dead, she¡¯d have killed them. This was a game. The stakes were high, but it was still a game. There could be another culling of the herd in store, but he suspected it would be for those who didn¡¯t listen. The little white woman still clung to him. He wondered why she wore clothes that were too big for her? He still hadn¡¯t asked where she was from or how she¡¯d gotten here. But she hadn¡¯t been talkative since the... branding. Whatever the case, she relied on him. His family couldn¡¯t rely on him anymore, since he died in those mines thanks to that creature, but here and now, this person relied on him. The mark on her forehead looked irritated and slightly swollen, but the glowing eye thing wasn¡¯t out since the injection. Megan seemed to be a little more with it. She wasn¡¯t biting, screaming, or kicking. A denim covered arm went under her rump and slid down her thighs as he picked her up into a princess carry. She wasn¡¯t heavy at all, at least not for him. He bolted. Sneakers tapped the floor. Black rimmed worker¡¯s glasses pushed against the bridge of his nose. Running could be heard behind him, but he didn¡¯t care. He wasn¡¯t losing his breath over this short a dash, even with a woman in his arms. Long brown hair wisped against his button downed denim shirt. Megan coughed, ¡°That girl who died had the same name as me.¡± ¡°You should stop dwelling on it. Lots of people died.¡± Sneakers screeched as he reached the opening, an open ventilation shaft about sixty centimeters high by seventy centimeters wide. They would have to crawl through. Another pair of sneakers screeched behind him as the strong looking Indian woman with the flaming hair reached the opening next. Darrone grit his teeth. Considering his cause of death, he wasn¡¯t eager to be the first exploring a tight space that could be a trap. ¡°You want to go in first? I doubt anyone wants to be in the hot seat with you behind them.¡± ¡°I can turn the hair off. For a little while. I¡¯ll keep it to a minimum just in case. If it wasn¡¯t so well lit, you¡¯d be begging me to be a light source.¡± When she went down on all fours to crawl inside, Darrone couldn¡¯t help but stare. Those puffy pants didn¡¯t hide those curves or that she worked out to keep them nice and tight. But he wasn¡¯t going to whistle with Megan resting in his arms. He got down to his knees and looked inside as the woman shimmied further. It looked clean aside from the occasional oddly colored roach skittering across the granite floor. The fire woman took care not squish any, which made sense. They came in from gaps between the lighting screens on either side. As she crawled through, the screen flickered with the depiction of an animated face. It was that demon woman in anime form. They were television screens! Was this a trap? ¡°Excuse me?¡± A lithe Asian woman with a smooth complexion ruffled her white dress as she crouched to look inside, ¡°It looks like a v-tuber is watching us with the way she keeps bobbing her head back and forth and her eyes keep moving around.¡± Another Asian woman knelt next to her, this one wore a white fluffy sweater, jeans, and black boots, ¡°No you¡¯re right, what is this? Should we go in?¡± ¡°The clock is ticking and we don¡¯t have much choice,¡± Darrone said, ¡°If you¡¯re not going in, get out of the way so everyone else can pass.¡± They eyed him as an older looking woman with shorter hair caught up. A young-looking guy and older man with greying hair were at her sides. Darrone wondered what country they were from. They quickly agreed to start going forward and followed the Indian woman with flaming hair. The youngest man slid in first, then the oldest looking woman went in followed by the rest. The man with greying hair was the last of their group. Darrone put Megan down. She leaned a hand against the stage wall looking pale. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. The older guy who had been with the spooky lady before she got eaten by that stone monster approached. A slightly heavyset older woman slept on his back as he struggled to carry her. Trailing behind the main group, an old woman followed the Asian man with broken limbs. That was the guy who had tried to hug the spooky woman before she got eaten. He¡¯d never asked for any of these people¡¯s names. Probably a mistake. He did know Megan though, at least her first name. And he knew Circe, there was lots of talk about that one. At least one group was really worried about her, that demon man¡¯s group. A slightly heavy-set man with a black leather case in his left hand walked by the broken Asian¡¯s side. A few other people were pushing forward as well. If he took a proper head count, including those that were already in the tunnel, there were about thirty-five people left alive in here. Only a few had the marks, the old lady, the Asian baseball player, the broken Asian guy in the worn suit, the monk, and this white girl leaning against the wall looking ready to pass out. Wait, that meant those with the mark were really rare. Circe plus everyone here, that meant only six players had the mark. Darrone listened as Circe¡¯s original group approached. ¡°I don¡¯t know boss, Ebony ain¡¯t wakin¡¯ up still. You gotta idea? Tell me yuh gotta idea.¡± ¡°The curse is vaguely worded. She could wake up any moment. It could reset with a new day. Or she could be out for twelve hours from the time she fell asleep.¡± How was the monk not bothered by it? He hadn¡¯t even accepted the medicine and just shrugged it off while the others couldn¡¯t function with it. ¡°Isn¡¯t twelve hours a day a little extreme though? I¡¯m just sayin¡¯.¡± ¡°No more extreme than having your physical abilities capped into extreme weakness. No more extreme than having to endure intense pain at all times? But you¡¯ll find the more extreme the curse, the more extreme the power. This is not a world of balance. It is a world of extremes.¡± ¡°That¡¯s more than I asked for boss. So wadda we do?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll go in backwards and drag her along. You¡¯ll go in behind us to lift her and make sure we don¡¯t snag on anything. No worries, I¡¯m more than strong enough to handle it even if you should give out.¡± ¡°Yuh sayin¡¯ I ain¡¯t got what it takes?¡± Darrone waved for their attention, ¡°Would you mind going last then? Provided everybody is going through, that is. If you three get stuck, I don¡¯t want to hold anyone else up.¡± Alfredo shrugged as the baseball player crawled into the shaft. The stains on the back of the uniform pants made Alfredo grimace, ¡°Yeah, that sounds reasonable.¡± ¡°Fair enough,¡± Kunchen said, ¡°The tunnel itself seems safe. It probably leads to more exits.¡± The cheerful voice of Azoria rang through the shaft. Animated lips moved. The baseball player slammed into the left screen in surprise, though it caused no damage. The woman of the fire hair crawled with laser focus toward the nearby exit. The party of five in between them were gaped at the animation. The young man grabbed the hand of the woman behind him when she threatened to turn back. ¡°If you are inside, keep moving forward!¡± Kunchen yelled over Azoria¡¯s giggly voice, ¡°This is a test of will and obedience. If you go back, you are forcing those behind to suffer your fate. Darrone put his hands on Megan¡¯s shoulders, ¡°Are you okay? Do you have the strength to keep going? I think we should go. The clock is ticking.¡± Megan nodded, ¡°I can do this.¡± He watched the small woman slide in behind a few others. He got behind her and looked back. The monk looking guy, the sleeping woman, the big mafia looking dude, an old lady, the beat-up Asian man in the threadbare suit, and a chubby man with a dark bushy mustache holding a satchel remained. ¡°I¡¯m old and slow,¡± came an old woman¡¯s voice as Darrell finished looking back. The mark of the half-moon was stamped on her forehead, ¡°Let me go in last so I don¡¯t slow anyone down.¡± ¡°Zirak, you go in next friend,¡± Phaolo said, ¡°I¡¯ll follow behind.¡± Their voices became fainter as Darrone went forward. Azoria¡¯s voice, which didn¡¯t seem to come from the screens or anywhere really, filled the tunnel. Her beaming animated face bobbed up and down with a big goofy smile. The representation of her mouth opened and closed. She looked like those cartoons from Japan that took over his country, really popular in Johannesburg, in the neighborhoods where they had enough money for such things. ¡°Welcome to the loser tunnel!¡± Azoria¡¯s voice beamed, ¡°It¡¯s a tunnel for losers like you who decided to oppose me, or worse, outright ignore me in front of everyone. I didn¡¯t like that!¡± Darrone looked back to see the big man with the mustache follow him. So, the slower and heavier people were entering last. That actually worked out well. But he hoped the cutoff for the time limit wasn¡¯t further along. He hoped being inside the tunnel would count. How many minutes had passed since they started running for this exit? He gave Megan¡¯s butt a pinch through the loose skirt to get her moving faster. She tensed, but then crawled forward until she was right behind the next person. Azoria continued on a loop. ¡°Up ahead, you¡¯ll find individual teleportation chambers for the majority of your group. They are for one person each, one way. Upon reaching your chosen location, each of you must face a trial of atonement! Alone!¡± Azoria giggled, ¡°That¡¯s right, it¡¯s going to be so much fun! I bet you can¡¯t wait to see the exciting adventures I have in store for your redemption!¡± 62. Narrow The Paths Of Atonement Ebony¡¯s legs kept folding. Alfredo had to move, but not too fast in order to keep them straight. Azoria¡¯s image prattled on in this camp vent shaft. Alfredo resisted the urge to glance at her animated cleavage. Her voice, the blur of her motions, gave him a headache. He couldn¡¯t even straighten his aching back. Neck ached when he tried to tilt his head to the right. Alfredo tumbled forward a bit too fast. Knees bent against the ceiling. Kunchen held the back of her head. It rested between his wiry arms as he raised her back with his hands to keep it from dragging on the vent floor. The vent rumbled as Kunchen¡¯s knees struck against the metal floor. The others where already through, except for the old lady behind them who kept up with their stilted pace. Alfredo kept Ebony¡¯s legs lifted and straight. The metal nubs running laterally along the center floor of the vent that didn¡¯t bother anyone crawling through, but the moment someone slid across them they were getting sliced. ¡°What if the passage closes?¡± Alfredo asked, ¡°What if it¡¯s a trap boss?¡± Kunchen grunted. His back slid along the top of the passage. Parallel nubs on sliced his robes and then into his skin. Kunchen kept letting them slice him one after the other. His wounds closed before they even bled. He continued walking hunched over backwards on his knees with extended arms supporting Ebony. ¡°It won¡¯t close so long as we make it in time. Keep moving!¡± Azoria¡¯s voice continued, ¡°Up ahead, you¡¯ll find individual teleportation chambers for the¡­¡± ¡°Ugh, this lady likes the sound of her own voice.¡± ¡°Why shouldn¡¯t she? It¡¯s a beautiful voice.¡± Alfredo grunted, ¡°Really, yuh on her side now?¡± ¡°I¡¯m merely acknowledging the beauty of her voice, that doesn¡¯t make her righteous.¡± ¡°Righhht, well, yuh gotta point, yuh know. When she first walked up to me with those tatas tucked in that leather vest, I bout thought I hit the lottery.¡± Kunchen paused suddenly, Ebony¡¯s legs folded and her knees hit the top of the vent. A stub in the center of the shaft ripped Alfredo¡¯s pants and skinned his left knee. Eyes clenched as he froze. ¡°Shhhhhh!¡± ¡°Are you okay young man?¡± Alfredo looked back at the old woman, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m fine.¡± Without a word, Kunchen began pulling Ebony with a bit more urgency. Alfredo struggled to keep up without skinning his knees again. That skill the old man had for a healing factor wasn¡¯t part of his perk package. ¡°Woah, woah, hold up there. I can¡¯t keep up. An I can¡¯t just heal myself.¡± ¡°We¡¯re short on time. Keep moving!¡± They clattered through the vent and finally popped out the other side. Ebony was set on the floor. They slid her by single person platform with a glowing sigil. The new room resembled a warehouse breakroom, except there were no tables, water fountains, or snack machines. A bunch of platforms that looked like exercise steps, each with a small sigil glowing purple in the center, were arranged in circles around the center of the room. A white light radiated from circular tubes stuck to the ceiling. The corners of the room remained slightly shaded. Alfredo stood over Ebony and tilted his head until his neck cracked loudly. This new place proved a bit more crowded. A groan. The old lady struggled out of the vent on her hands and knees, then sat on the floor. Sliding stone panels slammed shut. Alfredo extended his hand. For the first time, he noticed the thin old woman wore a flower print dress and sandals. Hard to tell how she died. Her gray hair had shimmers of black. Her hands were wrinkly, her skin loose. What was the deal with bringing a helpless old lady to this nightmare? What was her name? What was her power? This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. When Alfredo looked around, he realized he probably should have paid better attention when the cop had been cataloguing everyone. Sure, he could summon that screen thingy and look at the list, but that was almost 500 names long. No way he could keep track of that many people? Most of them were probably gonna die before he got the chance to need their info anyway. A shiver went up his spine. Did he really feel that way just because he didn¡¯t know them? He got to know Circe, then Ebony, and even Kunchen a bit. It wasn¡¯t much, but the thought of anything happening to Ebony or Circe worried him, made him sad. But he only felt that way because he knew them? So, if he didn¡¯t know them, he wouldn¡¯t give a rat¡¯s butt? This was going nowhere. He didn¡¯t want to think about it. He could only care about so many people and that was that. An as much as he wanted Circe to be alive, she was pretty much certainly a goner. Dead as a doornail by now. So much for protecting her, or anyone for that matter. He felt someone shake his shoulder by tugging on his sleeve. ¡°Young man, young man, thank you for helping me up! You are quite the hero. You helped the sleeping beauty like that. But look at your knee. Let me help you. I have an alcohol wipe in here somewhere.¡± The old woman rummaged through her purse with a small figurine of a fat orange cat with black stripes in its fur clipped to the zipper. It smelt like butterscotch candy and butternut squash. A withered hand pulled out a small pack which she ripped open. The wrapping went back in her purse as she shook the wet napkin open. Without asking, she leaned down and pat the scrapes across his knee. It burned. ¡°Shhhhhhh! Old lady, that ain¡¯t necessary. And it¡¯s not like you have a band-aid.¡± ¡°Quiet, do you want to get lock jaw?¡± She finished her work and handed him the blood-stained wipe, ¡°You keep it. It¡¯s your blood.¡± ¡°Thanks?¡± ¡°Names Veronica, what¡¯s your name you big oaf. It¡¯s only right you tell me, considering you were so slow I almost got a leg chopped off.¡± ¡°Ah, yeah, umm, the name¡¯s-¡± Kunchen¡¯s voice cut him off as he yelled across the room, ¡°Listen here! I¡¯m going to help you stay alive! Those of you who learned how to use mana should be able to concentrate water from your surroundings or perhaps even summon it outright. Extend your favored hand outward and picture a ball of water floating above it.¡± Alfredo put his hand in the air and held out his palm flat in imitation of Kunchen¡¯s stance. He felt something. Like something internally was being strained and his stomach thrown into knots. Nothing happened above his hand, not a single drop. Yet, he felt absolutely drained for even trying. If he looked hard enough maybe there was a drop of vapor. ¡°If you feel tired but have achieved little, it means you either need to train the ability or you can¡¯t use it.¡± Alfredo gave up because he felt like he would dry up and pass out from the effort. A large ball of water rotated above Kunchen¡¯s palm, swishing, and sloshing without a drop falling. Alfredo felt his parched throat constrict at the sight. Veronica watched, but didn¡¯t participate. He remembered the guy who used the shields from the fight after that flying beef first arrived. The girl with him controlled a water orb but he struggled with what looked like a ball of dust and dirt. Some people were producing fire instead of water. One of the pretty Chinese girls had a nice water orb formed. The broken Chinese guy had a neatly formed orb. Who else, that middle eastern guy with the big bushy mustache wasn¡¯t bothering with it. The Chinese guy in the baseball uniform sat on the floor sulking. A few other people he hadn¡¯t bothered getting to know were showing a bit of promise summoning water. Alfredo waved his hand, ¡°Hey, yuh know what, why don¡¯t we do one of them team meetings where we all get in a circle and everyone talks about themselves, like their name, hobby, and where they¡¯re from?¡± Somebody started laughing in the center of the room, one of them Asian guys. Kunchen completely ignored him, ¡°Those who have the ability to summon water should go about and see that the others are hydrated. Hurry, we don¡¯t have much time.¡± ¡°Geez, I just wanted to get know everybody. Guess I¡¯ll try an get water.¡± Veronica pulled on his shirt, ¡°I thought it was a splendid idea. You¡¯re a fine young man. You remind me of my grandson.¡± ¡°Lady, I¡¯m old enough to be your husband.¡± ¡°Well, oh my, you don¡¯t look it.¡± Alfredo ran his fingers through his hair, ¡°Oh, this, it¡¯s a dye job. I¡¯m white as a sheet, or at least I used to be.¡± Veronica had a small empty plastic bottle in her purse. Kunchen was able to fill it up easily and top it off after they both had their fill. The water he produced tasted remarkably fresh. It flowed through the air as if in invisible pipes, directly to the mouths of the thirsty. Those who had containers were able to get them filled. The other people who could control water made more of a mess. The short girl soaked two guys and apologized profusely. It felt like Kunchen was doing all the work. Then Azoria¡¯s voice returned from somewhere on the ceiling. Alfredo searched for a speaker but found nothing. The way she could project her voice as if she was speaking to everyone directly in a crowded room still sent shivers up his spine. ¡°Hello losers! Did you just figure out something you should have ages ago? Well, you are the slow group, so it¡¯s to be expected. Listen carefully, because I¡¯m not going to explain this twice.¡± 63. Broaching The Tissue The scent of oil, dust, and metal chips covered everything here. Bright light glared from the overhead windows. Fluorescent lighting eliminated every shadow. The screeching of the lathes from the center of the building never stopped as they drowned out the pinging and scratching of the hydraulic presses. One after another, lined up against the walls, the presses dug metal out of part in pristine square cuts. Li''s machine had a sticker of fat orange cat sleeping in a tray at the top right corner. She''d placed it there herself. A tap on her shoulder shook her out of her thoughts Li took her protection, the same worn rubber pieces she¡¯d been using for a month, out of her ear canals. The screeches, pings, bangs, and whirrs of the busy workshop assaulted her. She looked to the side, then to the other to see her new supervisor, a strangely comely woman with long white hair that stayed unnaturally clean despite the everpresent shop dust. ¡°Listen carefully, because I¡¯m not going to explain this twice.¡± Li Xiao looked at this woman, this obvious foreigner who had white hair and red eyes in this country. No possible way she was Han! If she wasn¡¯t a foreigner, she was worse, an aberration. How had she managed to become a supervisor? Who had she sucked? Azoria tapped at clipboard she held. ¡°Your production values are subpar. You broach eight units an hour. We¡¯re looking for twelve an hour to meet the production standard. How many bathroom breaks are you taking? Do you smoke? Are you going to lunch early? Is someone clocking out for you?¡± The hydraulic press hummed. Li released the pressure to allow the broach to straighten. A worn brush spread a liberal application of oil up and down the tool. Thumb toggled the button to keep the tube from returning to the resting point before pressing firmly to send the broach deeper for more cuts. ¡°I¡¯m doing exactly as I was taught. The previous supervisors said that eight an hour was sufficient.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not sufficient!¡± Azoria¡¯s voice was like a hammer striking the metal skeleton of the press, ¡°Let¡¯s play a game together. I want you to have broached thirteen units an hour by the time you clock out or you¡¯re dismissed.¡± ¡°But each broach requires three passes and each unit gets broached in two places. That¡¯s not even possible.¡± Azoria tossed the clipboard to the side and shoved Li. The woman staggered. Azoria pressed down on the button and let the broach slide through. She caught the toothy metal shaft before it fell into the bucket, spun the part, replaced the fixture, then seated the broach into position. A quick swipe of oil and the broach slid through without stopping, without adjustments, and removing far more metal than Li thought safely possible. Azoria caught the broach. Oil and hydraulic fluid dripped from her palm. Her thumb slid along the teeth for a hasty cleaning as she slid the tool back in place before the press could return. As the press pushed down without a break, the toothed hardened steel piece kept straight. Azoria twirled a file in her other hand. ¡°You can file the cuts with your free hand while the metal is being removed if you¡¯re focused on your work and not your poor investments.¡± A fist squelched dirt and oil from the sides. So, she knew about that somehow? And she considered it to be her fault that she lost all the payments for her home!? BANG! The part slammed on the metal trays and it remained clenched between white ivory knuckles and decoratively long fingernails now smeared with oil. ¡°Get twelve an hour. If I can get sixteen, you can certainly get twelve! No excuses. Get it our find other employment. We have no need in this facility for those who refuse to pull their own weight!¡± Li trembled, completely overtaken by the part slamming by her unprotected ear and Azoria¡¯s demonstration of prowess on the broach. All she had to do was follow that example and keep it going. It shouldn¡¯t be unmanageable. The ear plugs pushed back in the canals as her new supervisor walked away. Smack! Set a part down. Ignore the freshly cut metal digging into her flesh. Her hands had to be bare, as she needed to feel the broach properly. Not as much oil, not as much cleaning, keep the machine running so it doesn¡¯t waste time getting to the part but not so close that it¡¯ll crush her thumb while she¡¯s seating the broach. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! The broach bent! She could see it. She had to release the pressure. What was she not doing that her supervisor had done? What was the trick to this? Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Again!? If she wasn¡¯t careful, she could gouge the cut and ruin the part. Come to think of it. Li tested Azoria¡¯s part. It was perfect. The cut from top to bottom held tolerances in the center! How had she done this? Her work looked so fast and careless. Li began to sweat. If she was fired, how would they pay rent? They would be on the street. The young woman wiped a streak of oily brown and green fluids across her forehead. Then she wiped her hands with a dirty rag. The fixture inside the part was removed and replaced for the fixture of the second pass. Li tried to speed up while filing the piece Azoria had completed with her ¡®free¡¯ hand. This meant no second application of oil. Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Thumb released the button and she hurriedly used the brush to slide oil up the broach as it reset with a little wobble. How long would she have to keep this up? There were no clocks in the shop, only bells. They kept working until their shift bell rang. That was the rule. Her broaching tool crusted with metal chips in each of the teeth. This brass didn¡¯t forgive being cut. How did that woman manage to have her cut come through so clean with all the chips just dropping in the bucket? It couldn¡¯t have just been luck. She hadn¡¯t released the pressure on the broach once. Perhaps it was a micro-release, but Li would have heard the machine stop! The gauge indicated that her part, once finished, was good. But this pace was nowhere near fast enough to keep her job. Li looked to the left, then to the right. Were the others really outpacing her that much? They had different parts. Talking to them would only make her look worse. So how could she even tell? This Azoria loomed in her mind like a devil as she seated the piece in her finished bin. Faster. Slam! Li jumped with a start. Feng Bojing slid a pallet jack under her box, ¡°We need you to pick up the pace. The next operation is waiting on you and we need to finish this order by Saturday.¡± Faster. Set the broach. Swipe the oil. Seat. Press the button. Slight relief. File the most recently finished piece. Go. Catch the broach. Change the fixture. Clean the broach. Set the broach. She needed to change her habit. Perhaps this faster rate was achievable? File the broach. Oil. Press button. Hold. Catch. Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Slight release. Change fixture. Check part. Repeat. Go faster! It wasn¡¯t enough! New part! Fixture! Broach! Oil! Button! File! Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Slight release. Why couldn¡¯t she get it done on a single straight cut like her supervisor!? Was she defective, a defective worker? Really? At this rate she¡¯d get just short of her required pieces. Perhaps that would be enough? But that inability to go straight through without a single release like the supervisor bothered her. Every ping of the broach when it began to struggle caused her cheeks to redden. She wasn¡¯t insufficient! Second pass! Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Release pressure. Apply oil! No! This kept going. Hour after hour. No matter how much she tried, she couldn¡¯t even get lucky and have that perfect pass. Her cheeks turned bright red. If she calculated in her head there was a huge improvement in her time. The parts she tested were okay. But she was still a little behind. Faster! Part! Fixture! Placement check! Broach! Oil! Button! File! Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! No, she would ignore it. It didn¡¯t matter if she gouged a bit on the first pass! Ping! Ping! Ping! SNAP! The bright lights and heavy sounds of the workshop went dark. Then her eyes opened. Blood shot from between her thin pale lips. Li raised her hands to her neck. The top end of the broach dug into her palms. The hydraulic metal tube raised due to a neglected button. The jagged, sharp, bottom half of the broach wedged into a misshapen fixture. It mocked her. Blood ran down her neck to soak her overalls as she gasped. Hands clasped the broach piece in her neck. Blood squirted down the oily metal and through her palms. The scent of metal chips and oil overwhelmed her. The screeching of lathes drowned her gurgling as one of her earplugs fell into the dirty crimson pool at her feet. Li Xiao collapsed. Blood-soaked overalls. Feet kicking. Gasping for air with swelling tongue pushing from between teeth. Lathes screamed at such high pitch her eardrums felt as if they would burst. Fists pounding the dust and loose metal chips over the floor as Azoria leaned over her with a compassionate smile. The supervisor gently patted her head as the world became blurry. And now, after going through the portal. After hearing Azoria¡¯s long-winded explanation that she found more confusing than helpful, Li Xiao found three things. A cavern. A table. And a broach. A single bulb swung from a wire to provide flickering lighting. Lathes could be heard screeching behind the walls. Fingers trembled. Li froze as she breathed heavily. She picked the broach from the table and clutched it to her chest as she clenched her teeth. It had that familiar scent of metal dust mixed with oil and hydraulic fluid. She resisted puking on it. As she held the broach, she glanced around. This creepy cavern had one exit. A tall and narrow cave entrance with craggy rocks beckoned her into its darkness. Her two children: abandoned by their careless mother. Her husband: left behind. Her job: dismissed. Even the friends she made here who shared the same country in the old life, who vowed to oppose Azoria together with her: gone. Li Xiao felt the hydraulic press of loneliness squeeze the blood out of her crushed heart. She cried. As she clutched the broaching tool, a narrow path of atonement beckoned her to traverse its damp dripping darkness. 64. The Paths Of Atonement Narrow A single burning torch lit the chamber. Irons bolted into the stone held it. Smoke rose through small hole in the ceiling. The narrowest of paths lined with jagged rocks dripped with fetid water. Putrid odors wafted from outside. A chilling darkness beckoned into the depths. Alfredo clenched his fist, back twisted. ¡°Argggghhh!¡± The fist slammed into stone. Blood spurt from his knuckles. ¡°Why couldn¡¯t I stay? Am I that useless!? I can protect somebody! He thinks I¡¯m fat and useless, does he? A fat useless nobody who ain¡¯t got nothin!¡± He lifted the torch from the iron shackle and held it in front of the narrow opening. The only way out smelt of rot. ¡°Well, there¡¯s only one way for it.¡± He held the torch to prevent it from getting wet. His sneaker splashed into a puddle. The path slid downward, but rocks jutting from the cave wall prevented him from sliding. Behind him, the starting chamber became dark as Alfredo went lower. There was no purple glow of a return sigil. Pointy rocks threatened to scratch his cheeks or poke his eye out. The air became suffocatingly thick. For ten minutes he trudged downward until a jagged rock tore the jacket of his jump suit and scratched his side. He cursed loudly. What he thought sounded like batwings flapped in the distance. Tears streamed down his cheeks. Hands shook so much they threatened to drop the torch. Breathing picked up, heavier at first, soon hyper. He pressed his forehead against a stone and screamed. ¡°Let me out!¡± Knees bent but there wasn¡¯t enough space for him to kneel. A drop of water splashed over his hair. A voice echoed through the caverns. ¡°Mom! I¡¯ll be good! I won¡¯t belly ache bout the food nomore! Mom! Mom! I can¡¯t see! Moooooom!¡± Alfredo tensed at the sound of his young voice, ¡°I know what yer up tuh an I won¡¯t fall for it!¡± A faint echo from the distance. ¡°Please mommy! Moooooommy!¡± The passage narrowed. It squeezed in at both sides to steal his breath. Climbing back up would lead to the dead chamber. The only thing he could do there was wait to die. Forward was the only way for it. Snot ran from his nostrils, so he lifted his jacket and blew his nose. The sound of a crying child assaulted his ears. ¡°Shut up! Shut up! I know yuh ain¡¯t real!¡± ¡°Mommy, it¡¯s cold in here. I think I¡¯m dying. Please come back.¡± ¡°I said shut the hell up!¡± Over thirty choices for teleporting and he had to get some cave. A tight lip of rough stone caught him. A leg and an arm stuck out. The torch licked at his hair. He pushed it against stone. Saliva laden grunts slipped through clenched teeth as his large form shimmied through pinching stone columns. The left column crumbled. Alfredo popped free, slid forward, and hit his head on a low hanging stone. The torch dropped onto the floor and slid forward into the low passage. That was his only light. He got on his hands and knees and followed the scent of smoke as the fire threatened to flicker out. Did he even have a disposable lighter on him? He lifted the torch. Fingers fanned the flame until it stabilized. It singed the front of his hair. He pushed it away. Darkness loomed ahead. The fire''s light refused to venture far. Dirt fell from the low ceiling. Hissing popped from the torch as slime dripped onto his thumb. A tan appendage wriggled into a barely visible hole above him. A small dollop of slime smacked the slippery floor. ¡°I¡¯m gettin¡¯ outta here!¡± Alfredo crawled forward, ¡°I¡¯m gettin¡¯ outta here, gettin¡¯ outta here, gettin¡¯ outta here! I¡¯m not gonna die alone in some stinkin¡¯ cave! I¡¯m gonna die with my boots on. Standing up under the open sky! And not all under the ground like!¡± This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The tunnel became tighter. He pushed his torch out another narrow opening and then pulled himself into another narrow chamber. The ceiling, slightly higher. The caverns swirled about him in shadow. He curled up on the floor. The flickering torch raised above his body. I said she¡¯s still alive you moron, for now! ¡°I know what yuh said, yuh think I don¡¯t know? But I can¡¯t do this no more. I hate caves. Anything but caves. Why¡¯d it haveta be caves? I can barely squeeze through. At least when I was small, I was small, ya know? Why am I talkin¡¯ to myself? I¡¯m scared witless. My teeth are chattering here.¡± The sounds of his voice hit the jagged walls. A series of hisses followed from above. Alfredo stumbled to his feet while grasping loose stone. The torch raised upwards to reveal a pattern of brown, black, and splotchy tans huddling from the ceiling. Bats? ¡°Great, just what I needed. Well, guess I got somethin'' to eat if I get desperate.¡± His stomach growled. What he wouldn¡¯t give for a New York cheese steak or some original style pizza. He still had a few of those Nutrient Bars and a bottle of water in his jacket pockets though. The torch waved about; the smoke drifted upwards. Alfredo heard shuffling and looked up. One by one, heads tilted down. Glowing feline eyes opened wide. The narrow pupils flickered with the torch light''s glow. Fangs bared. ¡°Hissssssssssssss!¡± A creature dropped. It had, ears, nose, brown and tan fur, vertical slitted glowing eyes, and fangs like a cat. Front paws with sharp claws swung for his nose. Alfredo stepped back and swung his torch in defense. It almost went out. The flame flicked away for a short moment. Pitch darkness descended. As the torch flared back to life, the darkness retreated. Tears streamed down Alfredo¡¯s bright red cheeks. ¡°GET ME OUTTA OF HERE!¡± The cat creature hissed at him from the floor. He kicked it, punted it against the rocks. A sickening crack followed. The ceiling of the cavern came alive. Hissssssssss! Hisss! Hiss! Mrrrooooooooooow! Hissss! Hiss! His hand slid along the stone. Another one of those metal shackles was in the wall. It didn¡¯t make no sense. Had somebody been in this cave before? Maybe it did make sense. He put the torch inside so he¡¯d have both hands free. But the critters didn¡¯t attack. He stepped forward and one swooped down. It flew past him. Then another followed. The torch flickered as they bashed into it. The creatures scurried across the floor. They had the backside of a slimy worm! Gross! They burrowed rear first into holes between the jagged rocks. Glowing eyes glistened within the walls. Another dropped against his torch, the flame flickered. Darkness encroached. ¡°They¡¯re after my torch!¡± They weren¡¯t directly overhead at least. The slick coating of droppings was a few steps further down the narrowing chamber. He pushed at the stone. It felt loose and crumbly, but the rumbling sounds from above froze him. He reached to slide his torch from the shackle. A cat side pushed out of a hole and scratched the back of his hand. Alfredo screamed a curse that sent two more creatures shooting at him. One landed on his face. The other shot past and clutched at the handle of the torch. Claws pushed from the velvet. They swiped across his forehead to leave a bloody scratch. Slime moistened the collar of his shirt. Alfredo threw the offending cat-worm off against the floor so hard it splattered open. He pressed his palms against his stinging forehead. Fingernails extended as steam swirled from his breath. He keenly heard the shuffling of the cat-worm. His fist side-slammed it against the cave wall. Rwrooooor! Splat! The worm portion burst from the pressure as the innards of the beast dropped. Horns pushed from his head, but he took deep breaths and they slowly pulled back. His hand ran across his forehead. Blood smeared along the underside of his fingers. Slow, deep, controlled breathes like Kunchen recommended sealed the demon within. Claws retracted as he retrieved the torch. Wet pops smacked from the ceiling. Bright eyes fell towards him. Wet muzzles snarled with wicked feline growls. Alfredo waved the torch to send a bunch smacking against the stones. Claws sliced the legs of his pants. They cut his jacket and opened his arms. His thighs took slices. His sleves peeled open as he tried to protect his face. After attacking, they scurried from his feet to avoid being kicked. One crunched between his sneaker and a rock. Bones pushed from burst worm flesh. Alfredo kicked another, it burst with a sickening pop as a mix of blood and stinky viscera coated his sneaker. In between the jagged rocks and loose sand, the creatures burrowed. Their shuffling and muffled growls could be heard behind the walls. They returned to the ceiling, squeezed out, and dropped over him. A claw swiped along the top of his head from ear to ear. Blood dripped down the back of his neck. Scalp burned. Alfredo ran forward with his arms barring his face and the torch held high. Cat faces screeched from the walls. His wet sneaker slipped on the droppings. The cave sloped down further as fecal sludge made the floor a slide. His face barely missed low hanging stalactites. Left fist gripped the torch with white knuckles. A narrow opening approached. Alfredo pushed up on his left leg to try and slow his descent. His body slammed into the wedge between rocks. Knees felt like they would snap apart. The torch fell from his hand and rolled by his left leg while still burning. The right half stuck out over a short drop into a murky pool below. His left half faced the slippery path back to the cat-worms. The torch burned at his ankle. A kick pushed it away, only for it to burn out of reach. The rocky slit embraced him by pinching his rib cage. Alfredo wiggled, but he could barely move one way or the other. The light of the torch faded. From the tunnel above, an angry hiss, ¡°Mrrrooooooow!¡± 65. Welcome To The Major Leagues Gum rolled between his crooked front teeth before he bit down. The green film stretched over his tongue. The weakest of snaps popped from an attempted bubble. A cool Siberian breeze masked a relentless Hokkaido sun. Natural grass swayed in the outfield. The tires of the pitching machine whirred as Azoria dumped a bag of baseballs inside. Her red baseball cap displayed a wheel of cheese. The white baseball shirt buttoned tightly against her chest had a red lining to match the cap. Black business slacks mismatched with the uniform top, as did black heels that were clumsy for the field. They threatened to collapse her when they dug into the grass. The machine shot a ball straight for the strike zone. Hiroku hit it high into the outfield. Azoria clapped, ¡°Oh, nice, that one went really high!¡± The next ball hit a straight bat and bunted past Azoria straight across the pitcher¡¯s mound before rolling to the edge of the diamond. Hiroku frowned. Whiiiiiirrrrr, blooonk! His eye zoomed. The bat swung. A crack followed the ball flying into the empty seats of the small stadium. Azoria jumped and clapped. She turned the machine off before running across the pitcher¡¯s mound. Her chest pushed as she fell into hugging him. A neatly painted red fingernail dared to circle his left shoulder. Hiroku couldn¡¯t resist staring at her chest, where the fabric pushed tightly against her ample perky shape. A finger pressed the bridge of his nose to gently nudge his eyes back to hers. Hiroku smiled, ¡°Do you believe in love at first sight?¡± ¡°Rwor!¡± Azoria whispered into his ear as her fingers slid along defined abs, ¡°Someone is keeping to a strict training regimen.¡± An arm went around her shoulder and pressed her closer. He could feel burning warmth. Skin flushed slightly as his heart thumped. Soft hair with an odd rainbow sheen in this sun laid softly over the back of his hand. Her scent was flowery. ¡°So you want to come back to my place. I¡¯ll make you a fine steak tartare.¡± Azoria pulled away from his embrace to adjust her hair. Slender fingers flicked it back. The strands defied gravity by gliding back into place. It must have been the breeze. ¡°As much as I¡¯d love to join you tonight, you probably already know the real reason I¡¯m here.¡± Hiroku spit his gum on the field, ¡°Yeah, team is finished. You¡¯re here to offer me the complimentary desk job. What service company do you work for? Well, not that at matters, but somebody at NOGAWA has damn good taste.¡± Azoria¡¯s cheeks reddened as she spun around, ¡°You think! That¡¯s so kind! Thank you so much! If I was single, you¡¯d be my fist choice.¡± ¡°Figures you¡¯d be taken.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t say I wasn¡¯t single. But anyway, why not take the desk job? You¡¯re thirty-one years old. Time to stop playing games and think seriously about life¡¯s real responsibilities. Maybe you should start a family.¡± The bat kept spinning as Hiroku practiced for imagined pitches, ¡°I don¡¯t even know you and you already sound like all my Ex-girlfriends. Baseball isn¡¯t just some game. It¡¯s all I know. It¡¯s all I ever wanted. I lost three good women over baseball. It¡¯s not something I can just give up,¡± a sigh, ¡°I¡¯ll talk to the chief personally, thank him for all the support. I¡¯m going to play this game until I can¡¯t anymore, so they can take their glorified secretarial position and shove it up a dark moist alley.¡± ¡°That last part wasn¡¯t grateful. I¡¯ll make sure to leave that part out.¡± The bat swooshed with a crack against the air, ¡°I said I¡¯d tell them myself! I¡¯m not a coward! How about this? How about you get lost? You¡¯re obviously not into me for real and it¡¯s ruining my mood.¡± Their bodies pressed as she moved behind him. Arms wrapped his waist so that her chest pressed into his back. He felt her breath at the nape of his neck. Fingers massaged his abs. Hiroku stiffened. The bat pointed to the outfield as he held it straight with elbow locked. Moist breaths tickled thin hairs along the back of his neck. ¡°Am I ruining your mood now?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± he grumbled, ¡°But you can make up for it by paying for the hotel room.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Azoria nibbled on his shoulder before letting go. She slid her fingernail down his arm. It felt overly sharp. Palm took his wrist to raise his hand so she could walk beneath the baseball bat. Bright red eyes locked with his. Tongue slid over her lips as she blinked. Hands locked over his shoulder. Her nose almost touched his. Hiroku breathed heavily, back tensed as met her gaze without flinching. What a tease, he thought. She smiled knowingly. ¡°You have far too much talent to be in this backwater cheese company team. It¡¯s a pity you were never scouted earlier. I can make things happen. I can get you a spot in the major leagues before you¡¯re out to pasture. Think of it, your big chance, you could be a household name before you retire.¡± Hiroku put his hands on her shoulders. Was she a recruiter, an honest to goodness recruiter? Had somebody finally seen his hard work? Had she noticed his true potential? Did she actually understand!? ¡°It sounds too good to be true.¡± ¡°You and I both know that worse players have gone to the major leagues. Talent is overlooked all the time, and before you know it, it¡¯s no longer¡­ ripe.¡± Finger clutched down on her slender shoulders like vise grips, yet it felt like he gripped warm steel bars. He shook her. Head bobbed, yet he held back. This was a slender little lady after all. Azoria snickered at the tension under his thin veil of control ¡°How? Tell me how? Who are you with? Who do you know!? I want details damn it!¡± ¡°That hurts.¡± Hiroku let go immediately and backed away, ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m sorry. It¡¯s just hard to believe. What do I have to do?¡± Azoria smiled gently, ¡°It¡¯s simple. First, I want to get a measure of your talent. So please play a game with me. If you can hit fifteen hits plus two homeruns from fifty fly pitches tonight, you¡¯ll have a spot on the roster of a major league team tomorrow.¡± The bat swung to the side, ¡°If you¡¯re bullshitting me, we¡¯re going on a date. If you¡¯re not bullshitting me, we¡¯re going on a date. Yes! Yes! Let¡¯s do this! Fire up the machine, mix up the pitch variations however you like.¡± Azoria shrugged, ¡°Machine? No, that won¡¯t be necessary. I¡¯ll be the one pitching.¡± A bit of a chuckle rested in his voice, ¡°What!? A little thing like you who can barely hop across the field? In those heels? With those very pretty little arms? With those soft hands? Aren¡¯t you afraid you might break one of those cute manicured nails? Can you even manage a toss? I need the ball to actually reach me if I¡¯m going to hit it over the chairs.¡± ¡°If I can¡¯t pitch sufficiently into your strike zone, we¡¯ll switch to the machine.¡± Hips swayed as heels dug into the sand. A trail of prints marked the way to the mound. Though Hiroku¡¯s focus wasn¡¯t on the ground. He closed his eyes. This had to be a test of his focus. Even a weakling like her could manage one or maybe two decent pitches, easy hits though, unless he was staring at something other than the ball. Hiroku narrowed his eyes. Even if this was all a lie, she was worth his time, for now. If he could just take his eyes off her. Heels clipped against the pitcher¡¯s plate. The heavy machine groaned as it rolled aside with a single push. Azoria grabbed a ball and tossed it in the air. It rolled, defying gravity before smacking back into her palm. Maybe she could manage one decent pitch. Hiroku smirked as he readied his bat. Azoria¡¯s hips stretched those office slacks rather nicely as she twisted and wound for the pitch. It looked anything but professional. This would be quite the story for the others. Zreeeem! The ball flew by his strike zone before he could so much as swing. It crackled the air before it smacked into the heavy net. Hiroku looked back to see it drop onto the sand. Almost smoking. ¡°Strike!¡± Azoria called, ¡°That one counts too!¡± ¡°Lady! Where¡¯d you learn to pitch like that!? You look like an idiot but pitch like a demon!¡± She giggled. The next ball rolled as it went in the air and smacked in her palm. This time he swung too early. The ball dropped from her gentle lob into the strike zone and rolled past. Hiroku took a deep calming breath as he returned to the plate. The third ball already bounced over Azoria¡¯s palm. ¡°Strike Two! This is fun. I¡¯m having fun! Are you having fun!?¡± The bat tapped the sand as he positioned for the next swing. This was all a dream. A bad dream at his expense. He¡¯d drank some overly strong sake. It gave him nightmares about practice. That¡¯s what was happening right now even if it felt all too real. ¡°I am having fun. Major leagues or not, I like you. We should get to know each other better.¡± Another pitch flew right past him, ¡°Strike three! I¡¯m not interested in industrial workers batting for cheese companies. I desire real players.¡± Hiroku raised his bat, ¡°I¡¯m as real as it gets!¡± ¡°Prove it!¡± The next ball cracked his skull. Left eye splattered within the socket as the right popped out and hung by the optic nerve. Another ball slammed into his chest, then another, then another. Ribs snapped like ribbons. His thumb snapped; bone splintered through the skin. The bat dropped. Hiroku collapsed into the sand. Pools of pink slimy liquid drooled from his ears. The wheels of the pitching machine smoked as ball after ball shot at full force against the net. Then the machine hissed to a stop. Azoria leaned over him as he choked on dust and spit. His optic nerve fit nicely between her index and middle finger as they cradled his eye. His last vision was a sweet or snickering smile. He couldn¡¯t tell. And his ears were too clogged to hear what she said, yet somehow he understood her. ¡°Sorry, seems like you¡¯re all out of all balls.¡±
Hiroku clutched his head. The mark glowed. Veins pulsed down along his neck as the violet glow of the eye slowly opened. Scratch covered fingers fumbled through his pocket. A small brown plastic bottle with a safety cap rolled across the floor. He dove for it, snatched it. Cap popped. A pill sat on his tongue before he swallowed it dry. He coughed, waited. Eventually, the eye closed. The violet glow faded to a glistening wet burn. Hiroku hyperventilated as he rolled on his back. A tape wrapped wood handle caught his eye. The baseball bat clattered against the mossy stone after it fell off the platform. It rolled to his left hand. He grabbed it, laid it across his chest, and switched the grip to his right hand. Deep breaths. Something was printed, burnt onto the bat: ¥á¥¸¥ã©`¥ê©`¥°¤Ø¤è¤¦¤³¤½! 66. Unpleasant Awokening Dark clouds rushed across the sky in a sun obscuring crowd. Wind blew with a slight whistle. Gnarled oaks rustled their damp leaves. A group of people black dress stood before a closed casket wreathed with a bouquet of blooming black roses. At the front, a young man of about sixteen stood next to an older man. Both wore solemn black suits with ties. Tears streamed down the young man¡¯s face as he sang. Everybody sang. All I have needed thy hand has provided Great is thy faithfulness Great is thy faithfulness Great is thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me. The pastor raised his hands, then lowered them to close the hymnal. He gave a slight cough before he began to speak against the chill wind. ¡°We have assembled together here on this blessed day in honor Ebony Rhodes. She was a mother!¡± ¡°Amen!¡± roared forth the crowd without objection. ¡°She was a healer!¡± ¡°Amen!¡± ¡°She was a philanthropist!¡± ¡°Amen!¡± ¡°She was a pillar of kindness and hope in our community.¡± ¡°Amen!¡± ¡°She will be dearly missed.¡± ¡°Amen!¡± A woman dressed in a black dress suit, Marcia Guttierez, broke down to cry audibly as a blonde woman pat her shoulder. The black robed pastor nodded, coughed gently as a drop of rain hit his opening Bible. ¡°Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted,¡± The book closed, ¡°I¡¯m know you¡¯ve all heard this one before. I¡¯m certain of it! Well, it doesn¡¯t feel like a whole lot of comfort this evening. We¡¯ve lost somebody dearly loved, someone who made every life she touched a little better. And while I¡¯m sure she¡¯s with the good Lord even now, there¡¯s an Ebony sized hole in each everyone our hearts. But don¡¯t forget, Jesus is with us too. In this way, she¡¯s still with us even now! Can I hear an amen!?¡± A chorus of ¡®amen¡¯ erupted through the group. The pastor turned to the casket. ¡°Mrs Rhodes, we know you''re not in there. We know these remains aren¡¯t you. But in this act of returning these remains to the earth, we dedicate our hearts to your memory. May you rest with Jeeesus until we meet again.¡± A violin played A Winters Night In Boston. The casket lowered. The young man grabbed his father and pulled at his suit. Tears streamed down his face and dripped on his collar more numerously than the sparse rain drops. ¡°Are you gonna let them do this? Are you gonna let them do this to mom? Don¡¯t let them do this to mom, dad. She doesn¡¯t deserve it. She didn¡¯t do anything wrong. She never did anything bad!¡± The older man patted the boy¡¯s head, ¡°I know boy, I know. But what¡¯s gotta be has gotta be. She¡¯s dead and she isn¡¯t coming back. Not in this life.¡± Ebony shouted, ¡°Don¡¯t call your son ¡®boy¡¯! That¡¯s your son you¡¯re talking to! His name isn¡¯t boy! His name is-¡± Nobody heard her. Nobody looked at her. And she couldn¡¯t even remember her son¡¯s name. Why couldn¡¯t she remember her son¡¯s name? Was it because she was dead!? This wasn¡¯t right. She banged on the casket as they lowered her in the ground. Dirt smacked the wood. Wet soil slapped across the wreath. Black roses slipped over the casket. ¡°No, I can¡¯t do it. I can¡¯t throw dirt on mom¡¯s face. It¡¯s like throwing dirt on her face!¡± ¡°It¡¯s the first step to moving on.¡± Ebony watched as the man handed the teen the shovel. A lump of dirt from the pile lifted with trembling hands. Behind the crowd, a smiling demoness dressed in black watched. Cool and wet slapped against Ebony¡¯s face. She sat up with a gasp. Her hands dug into a moist sand. A bright light offended her eyes and water ran over her face, so she had to wipe with her coat sleeve as she gasped. It felt like waking up from a nightmare she couldn¡¯t remember. ¡°She¡¯s awake! It worked.¡± ¡°It wouldn¡¯t have worked even a few minutes ago. She¡¯s fulfilled the requirements of her curse.¡± A hand reached to her. It belonged to a short, black-haired, man in a faded green suit laced with gold sequins. Embroidered pads rested over his shoulders. The jacket hung open to reveal a white business dress shirt left slovenly buttoned. The right leg of his pants was burnt and shredded. A little bit of blood trickled from a wound underneath, somewhere on his thigh. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Ebony took his hand and stood. His grip was like a vice. She staggered to her feet as he pulled her up with little finesse. It felt like her arm might pop from her shoulder. Bright light came from the ceiling. A crystal glowed white with more glare than the sun. It hurt the eyes to look at directly, but it lit the large sandy stretch of ground. Two thick orange sheets sat folded on the sand by her feet. Had she been sleeping on them? Wooden walls about five feet high were reinforced by stone pillars. Behind them were empty seats. Beyond the seats were high walls, though more seats, a mix of red and faded orange, hid within the shadows. At the far end of the ring, a high wall contained a red gate with a giant lock hugging the handles. On a giant screen, the animated image of Azoria peered down over the arena while giggling silently. There were three more such screens so that Azoria could watch them from every angle. ¡°Where¡¯s Alfredo? The big white guy. Where¡¯s the woman I saved? Why am I in a whole different place now? Who are you people?¡± ¡°Nice to meet you as well, my lady,¡± the short man said with a twirl of his arm, ¡°I am Eduardo Domenech. And you are?¡± She squinted at the long slender steel sword the gilded man held out from his hip, ¡°Ebony Rhodes. And who are you two.¡± She pointed to the withered Asian and young man with a tattoo on his arm. The tattoo spelled the name Valentina in green roman font. Inked roses grew around the letters while an orange and black striped cat slept peacefully in little blue tray centered over the design. The withered old man spoke first without looking at anybody, ¡°I am known as Kunchen.¡± The younger man with the tattoo on his arm shrugged, ¡°Ah, why not. I¡¯m Valentin. Valentin Perez. I¡¯m not good with names so don¡¯t blame me if I forget.¡± A loud voice blared from the audience platforms with a giggly high pitch. It assaulted their ears from every side of the arena, ¡°Well look who finally woke up! Woke, woke, woke, wokity woke!¡± Ebony pivoted to look up toward a giant image of Azoria on a tall screen, ¡°I¡¯m going to kill this bitch personally.¡± Azoria laughed, ¡°You better start grinding then!¡± The image clasped her hands together next to the left of her cheek and smiled wholesomely, ¡°So this is the group that stayed behind to take the wide lane. Well, you and I both know where the wide lane leads to! Right miss wokity?¡± A common steel sword, blade four-foot-long, fell point first into the sand before Ebony¡¯s loafers. Ebony examined the weapon. It looked heavy. ¡°It¡¯s not cursed. It¡¯s just a normal steel long sword. Everyone else here has been granted a weapon for the spectacle. And now you have too! That¡¯s right. A spectacle! A spectacle! Weeeee¡¯re going to have a spectacle! I¡¯m so excited!¡± The two men had swords, slenderer, with shimmering golden brass engraved handle grips and finger guards. The old man in hemp robes leaned on a gnarled oak staff. He nodded. Ebony couldn¡¯t help but implicitly trust him. Hand gripped the hilt. The blade rose from the sand as she held it with both hands. An energy flowed into the weapon. Blade glowed for a few seconds. [Holy Sword Novice 02:] Imbues any sword equipped with holy attribute. She found herself a little breathless. ¡°That¡¯s wild. My son would go crazy for this. So, do we have any idea what is about to happen?¡± Kunchen shook his head. Valentin shook his head. Eduardo shook his head. Ebony narrowed her eyes, ¡°Thought so. Hey, Demon Queen Azoria! I have a patient to check on! So why are we here? Where are the others? What¡¯s going on? What do you plan to do with us? What¡¯s the point!?¡± ¡°Ah, Kunchen dearest, you probably have a good idea of what¡¯s coming next. Why don¡¯t you explain?¡± A sandal drug across the sand to make a line, ¡°Don¡¯t let her fool you. I have no idea how this dungeon works or what malicious blood sport she has planned for us next.¡± Azoria laughed hysterically, pupils dilated, ¡°But you do, you do, you have a very good idea. Kunchen, darling, you never fail to disappoint me. That¡¯s why we¡¯ll always be together. Connected. Because I¡­ LOVE¡­ YOU!¡± Azoria made a hole with her left thumb and pointer finger. her right pointer finger went in and out of the hole. Kunchen spit. Ghosts appeared in the seats. Greenish, spectral, vaguely human shaped entities formed. Staticky noise from the stands mimicked a crowd. Then cheering started. Mecha Mog! ¡­ Mecha Mog! ¡­ Mecha Mog! MECHA MOG! MECHA MOG! MECHA MOG! MECHA MOG! The chant continued. Azoria swirled on all four screens along with the effect of sparkles blooming forth like exploding fireworks. The gate at the far end of the arena rumbled. Then it pushed forward. The lock held but the handles cracked as something big rammed the gate from behind. It bellowed. Mooooooooooooooooooo! Eduardo tapped Valentin, ¡°We should put some distance between us. I¡¯ll take the right; you take the left. Do you know how to fight?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a bull fighter. I just died in Pamplona. And it wasn¡¯t even a good death. I got crushed under a pile of people and suffocated.¡± ¡°Well, then stay close to me but not next to me. Stay about six meters apart. I¡¯m not sure what the rules are for this match, so we¡¯ll have to improvise.¡± The door clattered as the handles cracked. Wood splintered along the edges of the failing barrier. ¡°The rules are quite simple!¡± Azoria announced, ¡°Really, it¡¯s just one rule. Survive!¡± Eduardo tossed Valentin an orange sheet, ¡°This will be easy then, nothing to it. Strike the back of it neck every chance you get. Don¡¯t forget we have special powers or some garbage. Use them.¡± The chants continued, louder and louder. Eduardo braced his glossy black shoes against the sand and held his arms out as he circled. Kunchen stepped forward. The handles, still held by the lock, ripped off of the door. The door burst open with a clatter of ripped wood and splinter as the gate busted its hinges. A beast stomped towards them. Steam pushed out of its nostrils and backside. Legs whirred mechanically. Hooves dug into the sand of the arena. The bull stood four meters high from the tip of its horns to the bottom of its hooves. It was several meters long. The body glistened in metallic brown. Eyes glowed red. ¡°Mooooooooooooooooo!¡± Ebony raised her sword. Kunchen put a hand on her shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s not a living thing. Let me handle this and we¡¯ll be on our way.¡± The mechanical Mogg stomped closer. It snorted steam. Exhaust bellowed from underneath the whip like tail. The gnarled staff slammed into the ground as Kunchen screamed in frustration. ¡°My options have been severely limited. I¡¯ll help as I can.¡± ¡°What are you talking about? You just said you¡¯d take care of it.¡± The Mech Mogg¡¯s eyes glowed more fiercely, glaring even over the powerful arena lighting. A low pitch laugh bellowed from the mouth of the bull as it opened wide. ¡°Hehehehehehhhhh!¡± The old woman who had followed Alfredo into the last chamber squirmed inside the bull¡¯s throat. A raspy voice called for help, barely audible. Cords wrapped around her body. They pushed her back into the interior of the giant mechanical bull as it swallowed with a throaty sound. ¡°Let¡¯s... Cook!¡± it said in a booming voice. Horns lowered. The arena rumbled as it charged.