Heroes of Darkness: A Dark Dungeon Realm LitRPG Omnibus Collection

by Wolfe Locke

  The man's screams had lasted for hours. What became of him, Pat had no idea. But as for the man's family, their entrails and lifeless heads decorated the stone ledges of the World Dungeon entrance. The gruesome trophies served as a dire reminder of the capricious nature of the ones Pat and Dale now served. While the guilt sat heavy with him, he consoled himself that at least his family was alive.

  Lost in his thoughts, Pat almost didn’t see when Dale raised his fist to stop and be quiet. He could only hope the boy didn't start crying or screaming in his sleep. The blessing the elf had bestowed on them was powerful but not perfect.

  They both watched with wide eyes as a new monster walked past them. The beast stood up on its hind legs. It had a body covered in grey and mangy fur with eyes full of malice and insanity. Its head was that of a wolf, a Lycan. It glanced at them in hunger, baring its fangs.

  Neither man moved as its attention abruptly shifted, landing on all four paws and sniffing the ground before running off into the distance. When they could no longer see or hear it, the two shaking and anxious men began walking again, almost to their destination.

  Chapter 4: What Terror Has Wrought

  Long before they reached the dungeon encampment, Pat could smell it. The collected human waste and hopelessness that emanated from the long foul trenches dug around the camp that doubled as cesspools. Noxious and repulsive, the stench was Pat’s least favorite part about returning to his new home. Well, that’s not entirely true. It's just one of many things I despise about this place.

  The smell was not the only thing that bothered him. The closer Pat, Dale, and Luca got to the base camp near the entrance to the World Dungeon, the heavier Pat’s sense of guilt became. But what could he do about it? Pat knew he had no choice in the matter. To resist orders would mean death, not just for him, but for his family as well. No matter what happened, no matter the amount of pity he felt towards the boy, nothing would change that. Neither of the two men could endanger themselves. Too many people depended on them. Pat’s own sense of helplessness in the matter was cemented as they tried to pass through the checkpoint to enter the camp.

  A bestial horned minotaur stepped towards them, its hooves shaking the ground with each step, as they tried to pass through the gate marking the camp’s entrance. The brute raised a heavily muscled arm matted with black fur as it lifted and levied a gigantic poleax at them. The monster ordered in a low guttural tone for the three of them to stop. Pat and Dale both stopped where they were, and Pat set Luca down.

  "He’s just a boy, unconscious and sick at that. We have reason to bring him," Dale explained, taking the lead as Pat struggled to find an answer. The man was distracted, casting a nervous and worried glance at the kid, hoping the minotaur would understand what the message they were trying to convey as they each pulled the hem and collar of their shirts aside to show off the brand they bore his brand.

  The brand was embedded into the very skin and bone of their shoulders. After having seen the mark, the minotaur balked, quickly waving them through, not wanting to upset their master. The Bullman was already moving on to the next group, stopping a small family from seeking entry.

  Pat picked Luca back up without a word, slinging the boy over his shoulder and moving on.

  The camp was a bustle of activity of moving bodies. Desperate-looking humans all bearing the mark of refugees huddled about in fear as demihumans roamed the camp freely. Pat pitied them even as they passed judgment upon him with their eyes full of hate.

  Blaming him and his yoke for all the suffering they had endured, and how could they not? They knew what he was doing with the boy and what was going to happen to the boy. They knew the monster that Pat had become and no good deed would absolve him of that. A few elves could be seen from positions of overwatch directing monsters as they emerged from the dungeon to seek out and rampage across the human world.

  The two of them walked straight past the huddled refugees without saying a single word or sparing a look. If any of the refugees noticed the unconscious boy, they didn’t say anything. Nobody had a moment of pity to spare any more for someone else, not even a child. Pat hated that. I guess it’s just the way of things.

  Pat and Dale didn’t keep quarters with the rest of the humans; their families were afforded a level of safety and comfort that none of the other humans were allotted. With remorse, Pat looked away from the clustered people, casting his gaze instead down the road towards the entrance to the World Dungeon and the homes that had been built into the ruined shops of the mall. His home.

  Breathing deep, Pat walked down the street, steeling himself for what was to come. His wife saw him first thankfully before his children did, greeting him with a wave and a smile, but Pat shook his head and motioned for his wife to usher the children away. They didn’t need to know any of this, didn’t need to see any of it, any of the number of things he did to keep them safe. Maybe one day, he wouldn’t be able to protect them from the truth, but not yet.

  Dale patted him on the shoulder. "Hey Pat, I’m going to head off. This one’s on you, remember? If everything goes ok, you should bring the kids over later, and I know Sally would love the company. Fuck it. If the kid ends up being ok, bring him too." Pat knew the lie when he heard it but fully planned on linking up with Dale later.

  After this ordeal, he was going to need a drink when the kids go down.

  "Yeah, I'm sure he'll be fine. They can always find a use for people," Pat responded unconvincingly, more to himself than anything, as Dale walked away. Pat shifted his vision to look up ahead near the entrance to the World Dungeon, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t see the one who had branded him.

  His hopes failed him. Pat closed his eyes for a second in resignation, his heart heavy as his stomach sank. One glance at the grisly trophies set about on the entrance of the dungeon was all Pat needed to see to motivate himself to do what he needed to be doing. A price had to be paid. No good deed goes unpunished.

  Exhaling rapidly in nervous habit, Pat tried to steady his resolve. He checked on the kid, sensing that the boy’s pulse was weak and his skin cold, clammy to the touch, but still very much alive for the moment, and starting walking towards the elf. Pat was already committed to his obligations.

  There was nothing he could do but finish what he had started. Something he had started when he decided to save the boy from the back of the car rather than lead healthy survivors back to camp. Maybe the elf will give the kid a chance.

  Pat knew it was unlikely but realized enough about himself to know he at least needed to hope for a decent outcome. In his aching arms, the kid began to stir the closer Pat came to the elf. "I found a survivor, Master Sorlasan," Pat told the elf who had branded him.

  The elf was a monster in civilized clothing who dressed like an aristocrat of old. A monster for whom the very air surrounding him was tinged with malice and emanated dread power. In his presence, Pat’s voice betrayed his fear of the elf. His arms were shaking as he presented the boy, holding him in a way for the elf to easily inspect the boy.

  The elf moved about in examination, grabbing the boy's head, moving it from side to side as if grading the stock. With all the elf’s probing and physical manipulations, the boy woke up before he could finish, screaming in panic, extremely disorientated from sickness, but knowing on an intuitive level that something was wrong.

  Master Sorlasan, with a look of disgust, touched a finger to the boy’s head, and the thrashing about ended as a spell of paralysis took hold in Luca’s body. "Inferior, inferior stock, you’ve brought me a subpar offering, human. I’ll continue to inspect him, but I will not forget how you’ve managed to waste my time."

  Giving the boy a second look-over, Sorlasan flashed Pat a look of fury, the look causing Pat to recoil in fear, expecting the elf to lash out at him. "A cripple on death’s door. That’s what you’ve brought me? I’ve no use for a cripple. He's not even fit for the feeding pits. Just toss him into the dungeon, let the monsters within find a use for him,
" said the elf dispassionately before looking Pat directly in the eye. "Human, if you ever bring me trash like this again, it will be you and yours whose souls I consume."

  With a nod in acknowledgment of his mistake and promises to not repeat the mistake, Pat grabbed the paralyzed boy as the child begged with eyes full of terror. Pat knew what those eyes said. Please, save me. Don’t do this. Please don’t. You’re better than this. Pat had heard most of those words before.

  By the time they had reached the front of the stone columns that made up the gateway, the paralysis had worn off. Pat was positive the elf had undone the spell, probably for amusement to add a degree of cruelty to the spectacle. The boy sobbed and pleaded for life, tearing at Pat’s clothing in dire abandon.

  But Pat had passed the point of caring, being forced to harden his heart. He wasn’t a monster, he didn’t want to do this, but his family would die otherwise. Pat touched his hand to the shimming portal of the gate, ignoring the boy’s pleas for mercy, even as he gripped the boy tighter.

  "I'm so sorry," Pat said as quietly as he could, hoping the crying child could hear him, and the elf wouldn’t. Pat was trying to be as gentle as he could while still remaining firm in his resolve.

  Pat didn't want this to cause any more suffering then it needed to. Nothing about this was enjoyable. He tried to pull the boy off of him and cast him into the gate, but the boy began to wrap himself around him in the unshakable embrace of someone who knew they were doomed.

  Pat finally lost his patience as Master Sorlasan grinned, watching the scene unfold with ominous mirth from afar. A single blow from Pat's fist to the child's sides released the boy's death-like grip. Without reservation, Pat tore the child away from him, throwing him into the gateway to disappear to wherever and whatever the portal led. The place Pat guessed to be the hellish inner world of the dungeon.

  Turning around, Pat saw his daughter peeking her head out of the shelter. Whether she had seen what he did or not, Pat decided he didn’t care. She was still alive, and that was enough to let him know he had made the right call, even as his conscience condemned him as a monster, and his mind agreed in his silent thoughts.

  Chapter 5: The Blessing of the Shadow

  Head over heels, Luca tumbled through the gateway of the World Dungeon, passing through the empty dark space between worlds and the infinity chasm that lay between them. Aimlessly, he fell and continued falling, a fall that knew neither sense of direction or the passage of time.

  Eventually, after time incomprehensible, the sensation of falling lessened, replaced by the world's progressive feel and gravity around him. Luca landed impossibly without harm on his back, striking the cold stone of a dark cave with a loud boom.

  In the process, he disturbed a thin layer of dirt on the ground of the dark cavern. The earth previously long-undisturbed deep within the caverns of the hole he had been cast into. As Luca lay lost in that deepest. He felt the strength gradually return to his body as the lingering sense of lethargy and malaise he had long felt since the accident that took the use of his legs fell away from him.

  As Luca returned from the very edge of death, the sensations of bodily need began to return to him with a vengeance. Strangely absent was any feeling of pain. His stomach rumbled in unabated terrible hunger, even as his own trembling weakness from hunger seemed to have passed, no longer a concern. Unmoving, Luca remained in place, uncertain of where to go or what do if he ever found his way to whatever or wherever he was heading towards.

  Due to the limited illumination that was being cast by the lavender quartz embedded in the stone of the cavern, Luca’s eyes were able to adjust to the dark of the cave, allowing him a bit of limited vision.

  From within the darkness, something stirred. Luca could see a pale gleam of stained white and yellow. "What big fangs you have," Luca said out loud, barely croaking out the words through his torn vocal cords, towards what he thought was an illusion, cackling with an edge of madness that surprised him.

  The white gleam was replaced by a darker shimmer from a pair of hyper-dilated eyes blinking in gluttonous anticipation from deep within the dark. Luca heard the sound of feet slapping against the stone as whatever it was moved closer. I’m not dreaming. I need to defend myself. With his legs useless as they were, Luca had no option to run instead. Instead, Luca felt for something to use, his hands clasping around a fist-sized stone. Even as he grasped the stone in his hands, the heavy breathing drew closing.

  Luca smelled it before he saw the thing’s body. Vaguely human, though clearly not with loose, pale-green skin, full of blotches as if diseased with pointed ears and large hands with sharpened yellowed nails. The smell radiating off the thing was fetid, the breath it expelled smelling heavily of rot. I think this is what? A goblin? Have I gone mad?

  Whether he had lost his mind or not, Luca knew the truth of the situation. The way the monster eagerly looked at him let Luca know without a doubt if he didn’t do something, the goblin would eat him. Luca would only get one chance to survive this. Terrified as he was, Luca tried to calm himself, waiting for his one chance to live as the Goblin approached. Those dark eyes peered down at him as it bent over. Luca thought he heard the thing hiss as it spoke to itself, "Freshest meat."

  Those two words galvanized Luca’s fear into action, and as hard as he could, he swung the rock up, aiming for the Goblin’s temple. The rock hit with a wet thud as dark liquid splattered against Luca’s face. The monster fell backward into the dark and disappeared. What became of it, Luca could only guess as the very air around him seemed to change as subtle laughter could be heard from within the dark.

  Notification: This is the first of many notifications you will receive. You have slain a goblin. You gain +3 experience. As you gain experience, you will gain levels, and with it points to upgrade your own power.

  The blue screen faded. What was that? Luca wondered. His attention was drawn elsewhere. He was able to vaguely see amorphous shadows swirling around in circular patterns around him. Long tendrils and twisting shapes of smoke, reaching for him from further out in the dark.

  Notification: “The Dark God’s Blessing”,

  The Lord of Shadows has taken to you. The examination will continue before the decision is made.

  Helpless Luca tried to scream but found he had no voice with which to scream. The damage to his vocal cords had not healed. Unlike with the goblin, Luca felt pure fear as he recoiled in terror at the eldritch shadow. He wanted to scream and cry and found he could do neither. Not that it mattered. Neither would have saved him.

  The shadows curled around him. His skin burned with cold at the touch. The tendrils grasped at his body, encircling around his chest, beginning to pull him further into the dark. Though Luca tried to resist, it was futile.

  The nails of his fingers broke off as they left white scratches on the rock from trying to brace himself to avoid being taken. The force of whatever dark entity was behind those shadows hungered for him, and Luca knew fear as he involuntarily shivered but could not move otherwise, suspended as he was above the ground in the air.

  Luca was pulled forward by the shadows and tossed upwards with a surge of unexpected force into a cloud of black before beginning to fall again. This time, the fall did not last an eternity. Luca felt the force of gravity re-exert itself on him as he was met with the feeling of air rushing through his hair.

  It lasted only a few seconds before he landed. A searing pain spread throughout his body as Luca felt his back smash into a small boulder with blunted noise. The sounds of his bones breaking echoed throughout the cavern he was trapped in.

  The pain was immense. Whatever magic had dulled his sense of pain before was no longer in effect.

  The sounds of screaming filled the cave, and Luca looked around frantically scanning the dark for its source, disorientated from the fall, and only seeing retreating shadows. Panicking, his breathing quickened as he started to hyperventilate. It would be some time before Luca was able to recognize that the scream
ing voice he feverishly searched for was his own.

  Eventually, the pain faded to a dull roar, and though Luca wasn't sure what had happened, he had the distinct feeling that whatever had been broken in his back had already begun to mend back together. The thoughts of the creeping shadow banished momentarily as his mind cleared, and he began to notice a stabbing, searing sensation radiate up from his legs.

  My legs? Thought Luca, the residual pain and fear temporarily banished by the thought that he could feel something from his legs. He couldn't see anything below his waist, but he could feel, and as he trailed his hands down his body, Luca realized he could feel the sensation of the pressure exerted by his fingers on his legs.

  Alone in the dark, Luca smiled at himself at the thought and its implications. But the celebration was short-lived as he felt warm, sticky liquid on his fingertips. For a moment, Luca believed he had managed to urinate on himself. Perhaps an accident caused by the fall, but he dismissed it once he recognized the smell of iron. His pants were warm with blood, not piss. He was bleeding.

  The burning sensation Luca had felt had originated from a jagged rock that had punctured his leg and was protruding out the other side like a rock spike. The magic that was working to restore feeling to his legs had become a curse as the nerves awoke. As the intensity of the pain progressively increased, he felt all of it.

  Impaled upon the rock, Luca screamed and cried in pain, alternating between screaming for help and sobbing in self-pity. Hours passed, maybe days, the desire for food and water he had felt before was all but replaced only by the constant pain he was in. Even as the consistent fear of the shadows that haunted the dark of the cave surrounding him lingered.