Rise of the Grandmaster

by Bradford Bates

  Tim took a sip of his drink and coughed so hard tears leaked from his eyes. He looked into Henry’s smiling face. “Strong stuff.”

  “The stronger, the better I say.” Henry clinked his glass against Tim’s and wandered off to join the proceedings.

  The shot of potato vodka in Tim’s belly was warming him up nicely. He kept his eyes moving around the room. It was kind of like being invited to a massive house party when you only knew one person. Clinging to the person you came with like a flotation device was frowned upon. At some point, you had to branch out and mingle or go home.

  Going home wasn’t an option, so Tim had to talk to a few people. He’d had problems breaking the ice with other college students, but now he was about to do it with thieves, rapists, and murderers.

  Tim chuckled for a moment. Technically, he was a murderer and a thief, so as long as none of the guys down here were rapists, he might be in okay company. It was funny how that line differed in the game. Killing for the right reasons in the game could make you a hero, but back in the real world, it only made you a serial killer.

  Even Dexter lived with the threat of getting caught.

  But Tim’s favorite serial killer only went after the bad guys. Dexter always reserved a little extra time to make sure his victims knew he was there for a reckoning, just like Tim believed there was a special place in hell for rapists and the people who hurt children. Hopefully, one where men like Dexter killed them a hundred times a day.

  Tim looked around the room’s tall stone walls and dirty floors and muttered, “This dungeon is too good for those worthless fuckers.”

  There were some crimes that Tim considered so horrific you shouldn’t be let out. In his mind, rape was the worst crime, and seeing people get off with such light sentences had always rubbed him the wrong way. The person who was raped didn’t get a redo after a few years in a box. They had to deal with their wounds for the rest of their lives.

  It just didn’t seem fair. Lock those fuckers up in a jail that only housed other rapists and call it a day.

  Tim was startled out of his thoughts when Tony touched his arm. He almost jumped but managed to stop himself at the last moment. “What’s up?” He tried to smile, covering his freak out so smoothly they should have called him “Iceman.”

  Tony watched him for a moment and then flicked his eyes to the man standing next to him. “This is Baron. He’s in charge of our merry band.”

  “Merry might be too nice a word for it,” Baron said in a baritone voice that could have competed with James Earl Jones for top honors. “We’re mostly just trying to survive.”

  “Ah, it’s not that bad.” Tony pointed at Tim. “Tell him how you saved my ass.”

  Taking another sip from his drink, Tim coughed again. Between gasps, he managed to choke out the word, “Healer.” Ok, so maybe his smoothness wasn’t at peak levels today.

  Baron grinned. “It’s vile stuff, but it’s the best we can do.” He motioned for Tim to join him in the corner where there was a little less ruckus. “So tell me honestly, have you ever seen anything like this?”

  “No, and I’ve seen a lot of stuff.” Tim didn’t think the wound was from a weapon. The only logical explanation was something supernatural, but he couldn’t think of anything offhand that left those kinds of marks on someone’s neck.

  Back home, he’d been a horror movie nerd. He had a personal rating system for scary movies. There was a “fuck no” pile for movies that were so bad you wondered why someone had invested in them. That pile of movies never got watched again and normally ended up in the trash.

  No way he was donating them to perpetuate the cycle of shittiness.

  The next pile was the “I watch those while doing other stuff” grouping. This included movies that had barely escaped the “fuck no” pile, but also a few that hadn’t earned the right to be in the “watch with reverence” stack.

  So when Tim said he’d seen a lot of stuff, he meant it. He’d seen every harebrained idea out there, and all the classics, not to mention however many billion seasons of the Winchesters hunting down just about everything. Even with all his knowledge of the macabre, he still couldn’t figure this out.

  There were plenty of things out there that liked to snack on humans, though. The undead wouldn’t have left anything behind, vampires normally hit the major arteries, and werewolves just kind of fucked people up, they didn’t necessarily eat them. There was always the chance it was paranormal since all kinds of things feed on people’s essence.

  There was no way to know what they were dealing with unless they could catch the thing in the act of feeding. At that point, they’d either know what it was and be able to stop it, or they’d be next up on the menu.

  “Anything you can do to help us stop another one of these attacks from happening would be greatly appreciated.” Baron looked at the men in the room. “These might not be the best men in Promethia, but they are my friends.”

  “Do you know if any of the other victims had marks on their necks? I wonder if they have to be attacked a few times to end up like Tony or if it only has to happen once.” Tim turned away from the crowd to focus on Baron’s response.

  “We haven’t checked anyone who hasn’t gotten sick. The first sign seems to be moaning in their sleep. After a few nights of that, they get a fever, and then they die. The guards come and collect the bodies.” Baron looked lost in thought.

  “How many men have died?” Tim took another sip of his drink, preparing himself for the answer.

  Baron took a long swallow from his own cup. “At least fifteen, maybe more. Sometimes people like to be alone down here. We can’t keep track of everyone.”

  “When there is the time we should round everyone up so we can check their necks.” Tim ran a hand through his hair, brushing it behind his ears. “Then maybe we can find something that links them together. Anything could be important. Where they sleep. Are they alone? Maybe even what they eat and drink.”

  “If we can figure out how these men are being targeted, we might have a chance of stopping this thing.” Baron looked at the men mourning the loss of a friend. He took a sip from his drink, and a sad smile spread across his face. “Let’s let the men have the night. We’ll get started first thing in the morning.”

  Tim found a quiet corner with a little bit of straw he formed into a bed. He covered it in his cloak and sat down. He continued nursing his drink as he thought about what he had to do here. Then he realized he also had to be ready to take care of the Jepsom issue if his friends busted him out.

  He pulled out the information Paul had given him and started looking it over. His mind kept wandering to the more immediate problem of staying alive long enough to escape, so he set the file aside and rested his head against the wall. It was always easier for him to think with his eyes closed.

  He’d find a way to get through this. Tim wasn’t ready for his story to be over just yet.

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  Big motherfuckers make more noise when they fall.

  Cassie grinned as the thought circled through her mind. The quest she was on wouldn’t have led her to this cave if there wasn’t a way for her to win, and the way out was walking toward the center of the clearing now. When she beat the overstuffed lizard, they would be out of here and back to the inn before you could order a pizza.

  Why is thirty minutes or less still not a thing?

  Circle of Champions was an apt description, but cage match would have been closer to the truth. There was a thirty foot dome of vines being slowly lowered over the area they were going to fight in. The dome might be in place just to make sure the contestants couldn’t run, but Cassie had the feeling the vines might be strategic as well.

  Not that Drago needed an extra strategy to beat her. Big lizard smashes small girl might be the headline on the news at eleven, but not if she could help it. A much more rewarding story would be her kicking Drago’s gray-skinned ass back into the egg he was hatched from.

&nbs
p; ShadowLily, Gaston, and JaKobi had their hands bound in front of them and were standing off to the side to watch the battle. Guess the lizard king wanted to make sure they didn’t try to run if she lost. No one would walk willingly into a worm’s maw, but that was their only option if she didn’t come through.

  They didn’t make sunscreen strong enough to ward off lava.

  Everything was riding on Cassie, but she was used to that. As a tank in games, most of the responsibility was always on her shoulders. She had to be able to make calls and avoid all the crap on the ground while making sure none of the DPS pulled the boss off her. It was a lot of work, and not everyone was cut out for it.

  But Cassie was.

  She could lead a group and was willing to take a hit for the team when necessary. Right now her team was counting on her to go toe to toe with Drago and come out on top. No way would she fucking let them down. Cassie had ice in her veins and lady-balls big enough to choke a hippopotamus.

  The door to the dome was right in front of Cassie now. She gave a curt nod to her friends and walked inside. The grass in this area was trimmed like they had brought in the ground crew from Augusta National. The ground looked perfectly flat and perfect for combat. She scanned the manicured grass, but nothing looked out of place. If the lizard-men had rigged the arena somehow, the surprise wouldn’t be coming from below her.

  The only thing she couldn’t be certain of was how or if Drago would use the vine-y canopy above them.

  There was no way Cassie would be able to use the vines to her advantage. By the time she scrambled high enough to do anything, Drago would be all over her. Those sharp claws on his hands and feet made him a much better climber, and his size made him faster than her.

  Size wasn’t everything, though.

  Cassie could turn on a dime and duck under a lot of things with ease. Drago would never be able to slow down his bulk fast enough to catch her. Plus, she was getting better at dealing with her inferior reach. It was part of why she had chosen to go with the bō staff instead of a more traditional sword-and-board play style.

  With a sword and a shield, she might never get the chance to hit an opponent, which was kind of important for a tank. The last thing she wanted was to be rooted in place. She’d learned a long time ago that there was always someone bigger and stronger than you. Shit, some of those guys on late-night TV pulled buses.

  Cassie wasn’t built for that, and wearing all that bulky armor would just slow her down. So instead of carrying all that crap, she wore leather and had her custom-made shin and forearm guards. She could block with all her limbs but was still light enough to move quickly.

  Her speed and size were what gave her the chance to win.

  When Drago entered the arena, the lizard-men around the perimeter started chanting his name. The beast raised his hands above his head and let out a fierce roar that would have made Godzilla jealous. He slapped his chest with one fist, and the men outside did the same.

  Cassie watched the door to the arena be sealed shut and tied closed with fresh vines. There was no way she was getting out of this alive unless she won. The odds looked like they were stacked against her, but she’d never been a big believer in odds.

  Sometimes you had to make your own luck.

  She pointed at her three guildmates as they huddled together to watch her through a gap in the vines. Cassie made eye contact with ShadowLily and nodded in a way that said, “Don’t worry about a thang. I’ve got you.”

  The lizard king climbed to the top of the dome and held his hands up to silence the crowd. “Drago has been challenged. To the winner goes freedom!” The crowd cheered wildly. “The loser will be sacrificed to appease the Great Worm!”

  Soaking up the adulation of his people, the king lifted one hand and pointed toward Drago. “Are you ready?”

  Drago roared, and some of the men outside of the dome cringed in fear.

  The king turned his attention to Cassie. “Ready to meet your goddess?”

  Cassie smirked at the king perched high overhead. “I’ve already had the pleasure.” She shrugged. “Seemed as though she wasn’t ready for me to die.”

  “The rules are simple. Two champions enter, one leaves.” Green light started to pool around the king’s hands. He brought them in front of his chest, then held them out as if he were cradling something before he broke apart his palms like he was letting water fall back into the basin.

  A single neon-green leaf fluttered slowly toward the ground.

  “The match will begin when the leaf hits the floor.” The king lifted his staff and let out a cry. The drums went silent. The night was so still that it felt like everyone was holding their breath. Every single eye watched the leaf ride the gentle breeze as it fell toward the grass.

  The leaf continued its inevitable descent, and Cassie got ready. This was it, ready or not. Drago was coming for her. Cassie made sure her armor was tied tightly in place before digging her back foot into the soft earth. She was ready to move the second the leaf hit the ground.

  This big fucker wasn’t going to know what hit him.

  Drago laughed when the leaf hit the ground. With total disregard for Cassie, he extended his arms toward the barrier. A shield and a spear were lowered through the vines. The giant lizard turned with weapons in hand and snapped his jaws. The crowd grew silent as their champion focused on the tiny human.

  It took all of Cassie’s self-control not to fall for the bait. Who knew that lizard-for-brains would be smart enough to try to lay a trap? Fighters who rushed into Drago’s taunts probably lost quickly. For her, this was a battle of endurance. The best person would be the last one standing.

  Not that she didn’t want to rush over there and clunk the fucker on the head.

  But she was a tank. Her will was made of granite. She would stand like a pillar of earth in the face of certain death. Cassie would not give in to her desire to attack. She would wait for the bastard to come to her, then show him what it meant to be her bitch.

  Drago walked forward, and the crowd erupted. Their champion pandered to them for a moment before raising his shield and narrowing his focus on Cassie. He turned slightly so his bulk was behind the giant slab of wood and shuffled toward his target with practiced steps.

  The bastard was getting closer, but Cassie wasn’t going to let him have all the fun. She twirled her bō staff around her in wicked-looking spirals before tucking it against her back. She extended one palm toward Drago and gave him the classic “bring it on” gesture.

  Lizard-for-brains wasn’t the only one who could play games.

  Three human voices cheered Cassie from behind. She smiled and knew that no matter what, her friends had her back. All she had to do now was be confident in her abilities and trust that this had been set up to test her skills, not make her regret every choice she’d made since coming into the game.

  As an avoidance tank, standing in one place might as well have been a death sentence, so Cassie started to circle. Drago matched her, circling with ease and kept his shield aimed at her midsection and his spear raised in his other hand, ready to strike.

  This was going to be a long fight if neither of them tried to engage, but the longer the fight lasted, the better it would be for Cassie. That shield looked heavy, and so did all those muscles. There was a difference between being in shape and being incredibly bulky. Bulky muscles were created for short bouts of epic strength, whereas a yoga-like physique had stamina for days.

  Cassie reached into her belt and threw a dagger at Drago. The blade slammed into his wooden shield and stuck there like an exclamation point. The giant lizard-man smiled over the rim of his shield as though he’d won some great victory.

  Let him think that. Cassie smiled. Her mind was starting to work like Tim’s. Her plan was to appear to be less than she was and get Drago to chase her around. Finally, when he was tired, she’d fuck him up. The name of the game was endurance, and she had loads of it.

  Drago rushed forward, closing the dist
ance between them in two steps. His shield went out to bash her, but Cassie rolled out of the way. She came up on his side ready, to give him a thumping, only to find the point of spear coming right at her. Her staff deflected the spear thrust and she was moving again.

  Despite being so big, the lizard-man was quick. She hadn’t thought he’d be able to turn as fast as he had. Maybe he used his tail for balance, which let him recover faster than a human could. Going forward, Cassie would have to keep that in mind. There weren’t going to be a lot of opportunities to deliver punishment until Drago got tired.

  Keeping that in mind, Cassie started to circle him again, and with each step, she angled herself farther away. She grinned at the lizard, almost laughing at her blade quivering in his shield. If the fucker knew how long it had taken her to learn how to throw that knife, he would have been impressed.

  Roaring with fury, Drago charged. His spear slashed forward again and again. Cassie skipped and rolled, using her bō staff to shift the tip of the spear out of the way. There were a few close calls, but so far, she’d been able to keep him off balance, and now his movements seemed to be taking longer.

  Cassie scored her first hit when Drago overextended his spear arm. Her staff connected with his wrist, there was a crack like the sound of ice breaking on a frozen lake, and Drago’s spear fell to the ground.

  Drago roared in pain as he took his shield in both hands and used it like a bat.

  Cassie hadn’t expected to be assaulted by a wall of wood, not when she was pretty sure the big fucker was down to one healthy wrist. There was nothing she could do to get out of the way. The only thing she had left was to try to roll with the hit.

  The shield cracked her in the side, and Cassie flew across the arena. The grass cushioned her fall as she turned it into a roll. She climbed back to her feet after learning what it felt like to get hit by a bus. Drago was smiling at her, and all she wanted to do was rip the smug grin off his face.