Project Alpha 2

by R. A. Mejia

  Allen Anderson

  The neighborhood’s oldest resident, Mr. Allen Anderson has been present for every change to the area. He’s only ever liked a few of them.

  Likes: Classic television like The Golden Girls, Matlock, and M*A*S*H

  Dislikes: Anything new fangled

  Disposition: Paranoid

  Bonus info: Doesn’t trust anyone under the age of 60 and is extra suspicious of foreigners.

  Well, the disposition of paranoid certainly explains the shotgun. I decided to try to reassure the man, and with a calm smile, I say, “Hello, Mr. Anderson, long time no see. I don’t know if you remember me? I’m Anthony Tinoco, my mom is Teresa Tinoco. We used to live a few streets down from here.”

  The old man squints at me, and his mouth curls down into a sneer as he recognizes me, but he slowly lowers the gun. “Oh, yeah, The newspaper thief.” He looks me up and down. “What in the world are you wearing? You trying to trick people into thinking you’re some kind of scout or something?”

  I feel myself blush at the comment. The short shorts of the Campy Counselor Set and the popped collar do make me stand out, though apparently not in a good way to everyone. I try to explain. “Don’t you keep up with fashion trends, Mr. Anderson? 80s counselor is all the rage right now.”

  He shakes his head in disgust. “Well, what do you want, newspaper thief?”

  I slowly lower my hands and answer. “I’m talking to the neighbors about some of the thefts and assaults around the neighborhood. I heard you had an incident too?”

  He shrugs. “That Samantha girl tried to rob me, but when she saw me get old Betty here”--he taps the butt of his shotgun--“she pushed me down and ran. Bruised my hip when I fell too. But I told the police all about it already. What are you asking about it for?”

  “Wait, you actually saw Samantha? No one else saw anyone.”

  The barrel of the gun rises up a couple of inches. “You calling me a liar, boy? I know what I saw. It wasn’t no ghost like some of them old ladies say it was. It was that Samantha girl. How else do you explain that she can afford that big place of hers if she ain't stealing from honest folks that had the decency to get married before having kids?”

  “Huh? What does her not being married have to do with affording her home?”

  “It has everything to do with it. Having kids is expensive. Everyone knows she doesn’t have a job anymore, so how was she paying all those bills? I say she was stealing.”

  “You say she was stealing? Or you saw her stealing?”

  “Don’t you go trying to twist my words. I saw her stealing.” The barrel of the shotgun raises and is fully pointed at me once again, but I don’t raise my hands back up this time. “I think it’s time you left my property. I may think your mom is a nice lady, but that won’t stop me from filling you with lead if you don’t leave.”

  I focus on the old man and cast Charm.

  Your reputation with Allen Anderson has been raised to Trusted Friend.

  The gun drops from Mr. Anderson’s hands as a smile appears on his face. “Oh, child, I’m so sorry for pointing Betty at you. I don’t know why I would.”

  Knowing my time is limited, I smile and get to my questions. “Mr. Anderson, I’m your friend, aren’t I? Why don’t you tell me the truth? Did you really see Samantha break into your house and chase her away?”

  A look of shame appears on his face, and his body sags. “I don’t know what attacked me. I heard some noise downstairs and grabbed Betty, ready to show the thieves I’d heard were in the neighborhood who is boss. But when I got downstairs, the place was empty. No one was there but all the cabinet drawers were open and had been emptied. Then something pushed me down real hard, and I fell and dropped my glasses. Can’t see worth a dime without my glasses. Just heard the back door open and close, and when I got my glasses back on, there wasn't anyone around.”

  “But you told the police it was Samantha.”

  “Well, the cops said they thought someone local was stealing, and then when they showed me some photos of some suspects, she was there. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out they wanted me to say it was her.”

  As I consider the new information, Mr. Anderson’s expression changes from happy and smiling. His eyebrows furrow, and his mouth turns down into a scowl.

  Your reputation with Allen Anderson has fallen to Hate.

  The notification distracts me, and by the time I finish reading it and look back to Mr. Anderson, I see that his eye is twitching and his shotgun is back in his hands. “Tricky S.O.B.! I’ll show you!” He raises the butt of the gun to his shoulder.

  I reach out and try to yell for him to stop, but the words never reach my lips as he pulls the trigger and a loud boom echoes.

  I briefly catch sight of a red 27 floating away as the world spins around me, and I’m knocked ass over tea kettle. It takes a moment for my mind to catch up to the fact that I’m on the ground and that I’ve been shot. There is a searing pain in my chest, and I look down to see burn-edged holes in my clothes. My shirt is turning red from wounds bleeding from my stomach. A quick check of my health shows that I’m actually not that hurt and have only lost about 10% of my total HP. There is a small bleed effect, but that has a countdown timer on it.

  As I get to my feet, Mr. Anderson stares at me like I’m some monster. His face is pale and he’s shaking. He mutters, “What are you?” and then takes two steps backward, turns, runs into his house, and locks his security door.

  I briefly consider busting down the old man’s door and teaching him a lesson about not shooting people, but then I notice that heads are popping pop out of neighboring doorways and windows. The police are likely to show up if the neighbors report a gunshot, and I decide that it’s better to get out of there. With my luck, Detective Falkner would show up and arrest me for loitering and vandalizing the sidewalk with my blood. As I walk back to the road and then run down the street away from Mr. Anderson’s house, I’m happy to see that bleed effect has run its course and that my wound is healing up.

  I run between homes and jump over fences so that I can put as much distance between me and the approaching sirens as possible. I activate Sneak along the way, and although I have to slow down for the mechanics to kick in, I’m effectively invisible as long as I stick to the shadows. A notification pops up, telling me I’ve improved some skills, but I quickly dismiss it as I spot a two-story house with a roof that is partially covered by shadow. I use Spider Climb to get up onto the roof and finally relax as the stealth eye completely closes, letting me know that I’m fully hidden.

  From up here, I can see most of the neighborhood. If you didn’t grow up here, you’d think it was just another lower-middle-class neighborhood on the outskirts of a city. There are a bunch of one- and two-story homes divided by orderly streets and separated by brick walls. There are people walking around on the sidewalks, going about their business. Well, mostly. Because, from up on the roof, I spot something that shouldn’t exist. Just up the street is a hunched-over little green man with pointed ears. He’s only wearing a loincloth and is carrying a burlap sack over his back, and he has just emerged from behind a house and is crossing the street. A woman with a stroller is walking along on the sidewalk approaching the goblin, and I think that she’s going to freak out and scream, but she continues along as if nothing is there. As a matter of fact, it’s the goblin that is forced to sidestep her. He makes a rude gesture as she passes and then bends over, grabs a clod of dirt from the ground, and lobs it at the woman. It hits her in the back, and only then does she reactively scream a little. She spins around, looking to see what hit her, and quickly searches for the culprit. Yet, even though the little green man is standing 20 feet away and making faces at her, she doesn’t seem to see him. Instead, she turns back around and quickly pushes her stroller away. As the woman leaves, the thing continues on its merry way, cutting through yards.

  I bite my lower lip, not sure what to do. Did I just imagine that I saw something that
looked like a goblin roaming the neighborhood? The lady with the stroller obviously didn’t see it, but the creature must have actually existed since it threw that dirt clod. I use Dungeon Scan and watch as a thin beam of white light shoots out of my chest and extends about half a football field length away. The line then rotates around me on a horizontal circular plane, passing through everything around it.

  No dungeon detected within scan radius.

  The implications that the Dungeon Scan doesn’t detect any dungeons nearby and that only I’m only able to see the creature because I’m a System User are disturbing. Is this the thing that has been terrorizing the neighborhood? Should I just go kill it and solve the problem? No. I need to know more. What if it’s not the only one? I decide to follow it.

  I almost lose track of it as I contemplate what I should do. It doesn’t help that it’s so short that the brick fences obscure it. Thankfully, I find it again as it is climbing over a fence to get where it wants to go. The creature seems to be traveling in a straight line, and projecting its path ahead through a large empty lot leads me to the back of one familiar blue two-story home with white trim: Samantha’s house. It can’t be a coincidence that the goblin is heading in that direction, can it? I decide that I need to investigate and climb down from the roof, still in stealth. Once I’m back on the street, I drop stealth so that I can travel faster and run towards Samantha’s house. With my system map showing me the entire neighborhood, it’s not hard to plot a path and travel there. When I get to the house, it’s not exactly as I remember it. The paint is a bit more faded and chipped, and the lawn isn’t as green. Oh, and the last time I was here, it wasn’t covered in creepy-ass-looking monsters.

  All over the exterior of the house and roof are creatures of fantasy. Using Inspect tells me that there are goblins, longer-limbed and taller hobgoblins, and even a ghostly-looking creature called a ghast.

  Goblin

  Level 4

  Health 40

  Hobgoblin

  Level 6

  Health 120

  TP 60

  Ghast

  Level 8

  Health 100

  Mana 50

  Compared to my level 12, these guys aren’t a match for me, but it’s broad daylight, and this is a residential neighborhood. If the fight gets out of control, some normal person could get hurt or even killed. So, I decide to forgo my usual ranged attacks with the grenade launcher. Instead, I opt for a stealthy approach. I find a shaded section of the house and open my Inventory and find the Leather Armor Set of the Caster, which I picked up from the Paris Dungeon. A simple tap of the item in my inventory, and I’m suddenly wearing black leather armor inlaid with faint silver lines. I can’t help but smile at how badass I find it to wear this gear. Not only does it provide decent protection, but it is specially enchanted to not impede spellcasting. Well, not much. It still has a 5% chance to cause spell failure, but I’ll take that over the Camp Counselor outfit in a fight. I also equip my war hammer since it’s the only melee weapon I have.

  Activating Sneak, the world around me fades a little as the stealth UI activates. The eye at the top center of my vision that indicates how well hidden I am is barely open, which means I’m pretty well hidden for it being daytime. I find it a little weird to be kitted out for battle in the real world, but I really need to get to the bottom of why these creatures are here and not in some dungeon somewhere.

  I decide to take out the goblins that are on the top of the roof. I use Spider Climb to crawl up the two stories. Since I’m in stealth and slowed down, it takes me almost a minute and eats up 60 TP, or about 16% of my total TP pool. The eye on my stealth gauge is almost completely open once I crawl over the lip of the roof because there is nowhere to hide and the sun is fully out. All I need to break stealth fully is for one of the goblins to look over in my direction. Thankfully, the three of them are huddled together near a hole in the center of the roof, and they appear to be rolling some dice and playing some game.

  I briefly consider sending a Fireball at them since they are so conveniently grouped up but immediately discard the idea. Unlike in a dungeon, there are real, lasting consequences for using magic in the real world. I might kill all three goblins, but I would likely catch the house on fire too. Instead, I raise my left hand, palm out, and prepare Ice Needle. Even though its level has increased to 8 from all the times I used it in the Paris dungeon, the spell still takes three seconds to form a small sharp point made of ice in front of my palm. I aim at the one in the middle of the trio, and the thin shard of ice shoots forward with tremendous speed. It sinks into the middle goblin’s back, sending up a red 18 from the creature, and a thin layer of ice spreads outward from the wound, slowing its movement. The shot is almost enough to take it to half health, but more importantly, it’s slowed enough that its companions don’t immediately notice it’s been hurt. I drop Sneak and rush across the rooftop, war hammer in hand. The other two goblins notice me after I’m able to make it halfway across. But it’s too late. I take the war hammer in a two-handed grip and bring it down on the goblin to my left. I try to activate Bash out of habit, my standard ability that increases damage with blunt weapons, but nothing extra happens as the war hammer comes down on the goblin’s head. A red 7 floats away from the creature, and while he looks hurt, he looks angrier than anything. It’s only then that I remember that I evolved Bash into Break, which eliminated the bonus damage to bludgeoning weapons.

  Two of the goblins respond more quickly than I expect, and not only do they draw the crude knives at their waists, but they also stab me, sending four red 3s floating away from me. While the leather armor blunts some of the damage, I still feel the pain of being stabbed and wince. The sheer difference in our levels, however, means that I could trade blows with them all day and still come out on top.

  With three goblins before me now, I decide it’s a perfect chance to test out my newly evolved abilities. I turn slightly to my right and see the slowed goblin I first hit still covered in a layer of ice. I activate Break, causing the war hammer to turn red as I swing it at the middle goblin. A red 6 floats away from the creature, and there’s a loud crack as its skull breaks open. Its eyes widen as it wonders what happened, and then it drops like a rag doll. With the goblin receiving such a terrible wound i expect to see a death notification, and am slightly surprised when one doesn’t appear. I wince as I feel a sharp stabbing pain in my lower back and turn in time to see a red 8 float away from me. One of the goblins hisses laughingly and gives me a sharp-toothed grin as it withdraws its knife from my back. I angrily lash out with my left hand and grip the monster by the throat. It’s small enough that I can actually lift it up, and as I squeeze, I remember another ability I have, Iron Grip. I feel the loss of energy from me as I activate it, pointedly aware of the fact it costs TP every second that I have it active. Still, the results are impressive. My left hand tightens around the goblin’s throat, and a new red 4 floats away from the monster every second. The goblin gurgles as it struggles in my grip and drops its knife in its desperate bid to free itself from my enhanced grip. But I absorbed the ability from some truly terrifying zombies, and this creature does not have the strength to break it. It takes less than 10 seconds for the goblin in my hand to lose its last bit of HP.

  You’ve defeated a Green Goblin, level 4. You receive 20 XP.

  The last goblin stares, scared stiff, as I hold its comrade up in front of it and squeeze the life from it. As I deactivate Iron Grip, the body drops from my hand. The remaining creature screams as it turns and tries to flee, but I activate Shadow Step, and the entire world changes. The escaping goblin seems to freeze mid-step, everything turns grey, and I feel the increased pressure in my lungs as I recall that there is no air here in this plane of existence. I take two long steps to catch up to the still-glacially moving goblin, raise my war hammer back like a baseball bat, take aim for the goblin’s legs, activate Break, and take my third step, which forces me out of the shadow-verse and back into the no
rmal one. The goblin’s eyes widen as I swing the hammer in my hands, and I can only imagine how it must look for me to suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The glowing red hammer hits with a sickening crunch, and the goblin goes flying away from me to land on the roof, its left leg snapped in half. With its ability to escape gone, it only takes a few more swings of my weapon to end the creature’s life. I ignore the XP notification and instead wonder why I hadn’t gotten the third one when I hear groaning from the goblin whose head I smashed. The creature didn’t die, and a quick use of Inspect shows that it is concussed. From what I can tell, Break does exactly what its name says it does. It breaks stuff. If I hit a skull, my target will get knocked out or concussed. If I hit a leg or arm, it’ll just snap. I don’t wait to see how long the concussed effect lasts and quickly finish off the last goblin, gaining me another 20 XP.