by A Uscila
Wail scratched his chin while nodding. A sinister glint in the eye. Oh yes. Less competition. Now that everyone else was dead and Bob was more or less his minion – everything inside this dungeon was surely all his. Though that hot skeletal figure might prove to be a hindrance in need of disposing. All in due time – Wail needed a rest. It was time to log off.
“Hide somewhere and don’t you dare die, before I get back. Got it?” – He said, waving his fatherly bony finger at the new servant. A true figure of care and understanding.
Bob scoffed at it though – “What are you? My mom? I’ll do whatever I want” – He replied, while hiding behind some dark corner, as ordered.
Fantastic. Wail rubbed his temple and left this world for another – the unfaithful bastard that he was.
Chapter 15
A dark room within a dark world – seems like the hour was late. Windows covered by curtains, a medium sized bed, a pair of glass slide doors. A human-sized capsule right next to the bed - with someone stepping out. That someone seemed to have a remarkably similar look to Luke. Though that’s probably because the individual was actually Luke himself.
He got out of his capsule, scratched his backside, grumbled something incomprehensible and no doubt mean – the sound of drifting in the wake of his journey past the bed and into the adjacent room. The kitchen. At some point in his lifetime – he dreamt of having someone close and dear to the heart. Someone close enough to whom he could say - “Go make me a sandwich!” – That time never came though. Except those few times he practiced in front of the mirror. One can never be too prepared.
Luke needed to rest. Really rest and not hibernate in a Virtual Reality game. Saving time always takes priority though – thus a quick midnight lunch came first. A few slices of bread, some Nutella with ham and some milk. All the nutrients he’d need for the day. Hopefully, it wouldn’t upset his tummy too much. There was this one time it got so bad that he spent a whole evening on the toilet, emptying out his guts in bouts of…it was bad.
Preparing the simple meal took a bit of time though – all that banging in his head kept on distracting poor Luke. At one point he thought he was too tired for anything – and should just go to sleep before the banging got worse. But! Once the preparations were finally complete – all due to his unrelenting perseverance, Luke realized that the banging wasn’t actually inside his head. It came from the direction of the front door. Frustrated, the bachelor smacked his forehead and turned all his wavering attention towards this new dilemma.
Luke didn’t have many friends. Ok, let’s be frank – Luke didn’t have any friends at all. Thus there was no one who’d be banging on the door in the middle of the night. His parents? Impossible. They wouldn’t rely on him even if he was the last “man” on earth. Thus who could it be? Trouble. His shut-in senses were tingling. Someone was out to get him obviously. It didn’t take long for paranoia to kick in. A few more moments of doubt and escalating flashes of imagined scenes and he would have simply ignored the noise and gone about whatever it was Luke was going to do, until everything returned to a pleasant silence. That option was soon taken away when another bout of noise mixed into the racket.
“If you don’t open this god damn door in the next minute, I’ll call the fucking cops!”- A female voice shouted behind it. Such an unreasonable threat – coming from an individual even more egocentric than Luke himself. Loud. Obnoxious. Didn’t take long for Luke to figure out who that was – the neighbor.
Frowning and somewhat conscious of poor outward appearance, and lack of hygiene - he gave in and opened the door, only to find that intolerable existence glaring right back in full force. A little more and her whole face would contract into a single point – sucked-in like some black hole.
“About god damn time! This is the second day I’m banging on this stupid door of yours. If bruise marks appear on my delicate hands – I’ll be sending you the cosmetic bill!” – She continued her one-sided assault. As always. Some things don’t change. Heck, for that matter - not a lot of things change in general. At least for Luke.
He stared back for a few moments – “So…you’ve been banging on my door for two days straight?”- Not the smartest comeback, but talking to this creature made him feel quite uncomfortable. Especially when she was back in her all-black outfit. A tight corset - accompanied by a black frilly skirt that barely reached her knees, long patterned stockings, hair tied into two ponytails. Plenty of make-up as well – black lipstick, black dye around the eyes. Luke could only wonder if she tried to hide actual dark bags under.
She rolled her eyes – “Of course not you idiot. I have better things to do” – Since one eye-roll wasn’t enough, seems like she decided to do another one and quickly moved the conversation along – “Now are you going to invite me in, or are we going to continue here?”
That actually hit the mark – she was deliberately invading Luke’s private space. He never had a girl inside his apartment. Except his mother. Additionally, it’s been so long since Luke opened-up to anyone or had a normal non-work-related conversation. So long, that the only place where he could actually act like his natural self was – his home. Letting someone inside his personal space – the very though brought chills to the spine. That chill managed to knock some sense in the poor lad though – so it turned out for the better.
A little frown, an unfriendly glare – the scene has been set.
“You knock on my door in the middle of the night. You threaten to call the cops on me for no fucking reason. You even roll your eyes at me! And you expect to simply invite yourself in?” – Luke snarled, hoping she wouldn’t notice his lousy acting. Sure, he was angry – but for some reason he was scared even more. All bark and no bite.
“No reason?!” – She quickly replied in a fury. For a moment Luke hallucinated that her hair stood up all at once. Another chill – this was turning into a habit – “You were stalking me for months and now I find out that it wasn’t limited to this world! Not only were you stalking me inside Alternative Reality – you were responsible for my death as well!” – Her foot slammed into the floor, beauty flaring - like a blazing fire. Luke liked fire and she reminded him of her. Though the accusations were simply ridiculous. Beyond repair even.
“Stop it with the baseless accusations damn it, I didn’t stalk you!”- He suddenly shouted after giving her a few more moments to cool down. Which didn’t happen – thus Luke interrupted – “Just because we happen to be in the same place, at the same time multiple times over – doesn’t mean that I’m stalking you!’ – His voice lowered ever so slightly. It sounded much more convincing inside his head somehow. Luke even unconsciously added heated hand movements and furrowed brows. All that effort, yet the recipient did not seem amused.
“Whatever” – She simply replied and quickly changed the topic – the willful being that she was – “I’m going to make this quick and short then…” – Luke didn’t miss this opportunity and rolled his eyes. Payback – “Return the items I lost after my death. I’m guessing you didn’t die – since I couldn’t get through to you with all this banging. Which means you have my items” – She continued and raised her finger, interrupting Luke before he could even retaliate – “And don’t even start with your bullshit, I know you have them. So you either give them back, or face hell”
Arms crossed, glaring with those green eyes of hers. She’s pretty when she’s angry – which made Luke even more frustrated. A man has a hard time resisting beauty – the simple creature that he is. That weakness reinforced even more by Luke’s lack of experience – both in relations and sexually, of course. Clearly a sexually frustrated young adult. All the disadvantages and none of the opposite.
But! Luke was greedy. Very greedy. Greedy enough to overcome all those glaring flaws and chinks in the armor. Greedy enough to slam the door right in his neighbor’s face. A pleasure in more ways than one.
Over his short and frustrating life – Luke learned just how much unpleasant the femal
e sex found his presence. Even those that didn’t have the looks kept their distance – like he was disease-stricken or something. Thus, he knew right from the get-go that he would have zero chances with this one. To begin with, she was too pretty. Probably heard it from outside sources quite a bit as well – all that bloated ego.
So what was the point to pretend, kiss-up and be dragged around like some table-cloth? There was none. He liked fire, sure. A masochist? Maybe a little. But he will not waste his time on something like futile hopes of a relationship. He had games to play. Luke was a busy man.
Thus with drumming of poor musical taste in the background – Luke ate and went to sleep soon after. Not even noise stops a man with a mission.
Chapter 16
Wail logged back into Alternative Reality - with his left foot continuously tapping the floor. Seems like a certain neighbor decided to crank up the tunes a few notches, providing everyone a concert-level performance. It was mind-boggling how nobody called the police – though Wail wondered how much good that would do. The grim beauty would have probably gotten away with a warning at the flash of a smile. And the show would go on. Surely, it didn’t have a particular target. A special somebody that it was specifically directed at. Of course not. No one held any grudge against innocent little Wail. No one hated him. He had no enemies.
During the whole night Wail was supposed to catch up on some sleep. Was supposed to. It was hard to do with all that racket going on – especially when his feet kept on unconsciously moving about to the beat. Apparently, deep down Wail liked the music quite a bit, but admitting to it was something his pride simply could not allow. What meager amount Wail had of it.
Either way - common musical taste meant absolutely nothing. Not even if every single song played fit the bill. All fifty of them. Counted like sheep before sleep. Sleep that never came - as his patience quickly died away and he left for something more worth-while. One might say that Wail gave up too quickly - but the neighbor showed no signs of turning that racket off or even down. Thus, success at a futile mission was not something Wail preferred to bet on.
Here he was - back into the damp corridors of eternal darkness, the deep in which a temporary solution to his bottomless greed rested. As he was taking in his meek surroundings, eyes sliding over plain carved walls and latching onto a single moving shadow that was barely visible – Wail decided to brighten up the place. A little flick of the wrist and bingo – a mobile candle! Amazing what magic is capable off – Wail even spent a few fleeting moments observing his masterpiece.
Or he just waited for it to burn out and see if anything good dropped. A dissatisfied click of the tongue echoed down the corridors soon after.
Now that all that was done with – he looked around, searching for something. Or someone. A plain stone wall on the right, a plain stone wall on the left with plenty of darkness in between. Water droplets echoing in quick succession – nope. Bob was not present where Wail last saw him. He looked at the dagger he held with his left hand - that which contained the bandit’s soul. Since it served as a vessel - it might also help in search for the lost minion. A few seconds of wishful thinking and Wail’s eyes finally caught on a faint purple stream of light that trailed off into the dark. This was Bob’s lifeline. His string in the dark woods - a guideline to safety. Or more like a guideline to hell – because once Wail caught-up to the slippery-eel, he’d bring a world of pain to the bandit-underling. All in due time.
Wail trailed after the lingering light for a few minutes, traversing the damp, uneven floor. Not a cloud of mist present – apparently it didn’t linger at the very bottom of the dungeon. Which still boggled poor Wail’s marbles quite a bit. It was flowing upward from the get-go, but when he finally reached the bottom – nothing? He’d write a formal complaint to the staff if he cared enough. He didn’t though, it just irked him ever so slightly - enough to grumble. Not enough to act.
Eventually, Wail’s sharp gaze picked up on broken down items and various remains. Vanquished by something. Or someone. Or Bob. Thus, he continued onwards, for a little while longer. Like a hound hot on a trail.
Just around the corner he found the unfaithful manservant sprawled on the floor – counting coins. How in the world did Wail not hear the sound of coins clattering was simply inconceivable. Was he getting old? Did he loose his touch? Did his ears go numb from all the noise outside? Plenty of ideas of doubtful sensibility drifted through his thick brain fluids – yet they were interrupted by the same clattering sound. Seems like the backstabbing bandit was completely oblivious to the presence of his master – or he simply did not care. Wail was planning on fixing that by the looks of it – a twitching frown contorting his already lovable enough face.
“Hello there”- Wail whispered in Bobs ear, as closely as his straight sexual orientation could allow – which wasn’t too close. Bob did react positively though – jolting up like a spring, and falling down again after a slight misstep – “And what are you doing here alone? In the dark? By yourself? Something obscene? – Wail continued in poor humor.
Bob quickly hid all the coins he managed to gather in his pockets and frowned. Probably because the ones that were on the floor were already gone – a fast one that Wail.
A cough – “Well. While you were indisposed with who knows what, I was busy actually doing something practical – hunting down monsters and counting the loot. I must say – after that little ritual of ours, I somehow feel quite a bit stronger. I heal much quicker and it hurts less when I get hit” – He continued. Indeed, he was oblivious after all. Or he was simply mocking Wail - again. By the looks of it, Wail probably thought of the latter as his frown deepened even more – you could even barely see his yellow teeth now, since his lips were twisting into something like a snarl. Surprisingly– it quickly changed into a wide, crooked smile. Something obviously brightened up his mood – brushing all that blazing irritation away in the blink of an eye. Which was scarier - the frown or the smile, was up for debate of course.
“Well isn’t that just great! I’m super happy you spent your time in a positive and productive manner while I was away”- Wail started, his smile gaining a slightly insane look – “Now then, I guess you’re about to show me today’s haul, right? After all, what’s yours is mine. Right?”- He finished, the sneer frozen in anticipation - radiating in an unpleasant and threatening way. Even Bob could sense it. A little bit at least. Not enough by the looks of it, as he raised one eyebrow – overdoing it quite a bit, since it only made him look slightly weird. Disfigured even – the two were so alike.
“But what is yours, is mine as well. Thus, I don’t see why I should share the fruits of my sweaty, blood-soaked labor, when you don’t share yours” – Like a pouting child, frowning, lips sealed shut, arms-crossed and head turned slightly to the side. If Wail had any motherly feelings, he might have thought Bob looked adorable. He didn’t though.
Wail had other methods to resolve little childish conflicts such as these. Years of experience, maturity of a young adult and a little fire. Mostly the fire.
A few seconds passed – the corridor suddenly lit up and Wail’s smile finally reverted into a true sinister sneer – one with quite a few drops of “coo-coo” in it.
“Look. If you’re going to cause trouble, I’ll grill you real good - and use you to reduce my satiety. I’m running low on bread - of which I’m really getting sick of. Sick enough to try out something a little… exotic”- a barely visible frown now replaced the sneer, eyes almost glaring at the poor lad. Wail seemed to be quite serious – “Now open your god damn inventory”
Bob got the hint – the intent carried along splendidly as he extended his hand towards Wail, with all the valuables. That smoothed out their conflict nicely – the wonders of communication.
“Let’s get this straight early on - I’m the one with half a year of experience in economy. Thus I'll be the one who manages our mutual possessions. Got it?” -Since Wail’s hand was still held in a threatening manner - a
round chunk of fire dancing around in it, Bob could not object. A forced nod and they were the best of buddies once again.
Quite a bit later - numerous blazing skeletons illuminated the monotonous stretches of the dark corridors Wail and Bob traversed. Denying the very reason they were named as such - with only a lonely and ragged "corridor" remaining. Seems like the two were encountering numerously larger gatherings of these restless anorexia plagued individuals. Sure, Wail loved shinny coins. Experience? Yes please. Especially when it's doubled.
Yet - their numbers had been increasing at a threatening rate, which unsettled Wail quite a bit. Quite a bit indeed. Imagining hundreds of skeletons as large loot and experience filled bags made his mouth water. Thus he patiently used Soul Syphon and stacked up on souls, conserved mana and even summoned five minions. Not a very impressive bunch - a poor excuse for a copy. Seems like the spell simply used the nearest soulless body as material - no matter the state of it. At one point Wail had to manually shut down a minion - with the help of his slipper. Cruel? Very much so. But there's only so much use half of a skeleton can be. Not the upper one either. How the spell itself functioned was beyond Wails comprehensive abilities.
It did seem like the summoned skeletons were a poor excuse for minion material. By the looks of it, they were barely holding together - and one of them didn't even have an arm. Another headscratcher. How the increased health worked in this particular case was incomprehensible. At this point, Wail decided to avoid thinking about it all together - as not to overextend his mental capabilities.