Chimera King Box Set Books 1-3

by Atlas Kane

  “No way. Nothing is worse than tower guard. I mean how many times can you jerk off in a single night?” Cade asked, the tension finally breaking, leaving him feeling relaxed for the first time in days.

  “True, man. That’s true. It beats the hell out of the porta shitter though. I can’t go in one of those anymore without having flashbacks of extreme sexual deprivation!”

  The liquor was warming them up from the inside, and the night bled away with stories of Iraq and dipshit squad leaders. Each started with a simple “Hey, you remember when that dude Martinez told the platoon he was becoming a stripper?” and “Remember that one time you punched that dude in the mouth for wearing a Fuck Bush T-shirt?”

  A few of their recollected tales turned dark, as so many do. The bodies, the blood, the shit that still crept around like spiders in their dreams each night. It was hard not to remember the first time they heard mortars falling from the sky, howling like disembodied souls bent on revenge.

  Hard too, not to recall the first time either one of them shifted from a soldier protecting his fellow soldiers to a bully shoving an Iraqi around, smacking the prisoners in the face or using the little Arabic they’d learned to ridicule them. Still, though the guilt still clung like mud, Cade knew those actions were done by younger men who were put in an impossible situation. He had been twenty when they went overseas, and expecting anyone that young to remain mature and kind to the people they were sent to oppose was insane.

  So they’d acted like humans. Good intentions blurring with harsh reality.

  With the aid of whiskey and too many beers, the exchange was as needed as it was pleasant. This was their ritual, one that never seemed quite finished or resolved.

  At last, Smith announced he needed to leave. “I’m still gonna be drunk when I wake up, and that’s fine, but I at least need a bit of sleep. The conference starts at eight AM.”

  Cade nodded, his body still thrumming with the ecstatic emotions of relived memories. “Sure man, sure. It was great. Thanks for coming down to see me.”

  “City of Long Beach? Shit, I wouldn’t miss it, brother. Besides, work required it.” They laughed, knowing neither one of them was social enough to make a trip without a mandatory excuse.

  They stumbled out of the bar, just a few minutes before closing, and headed to Smith’s hotel. Sure enough, it was five minutes’ walk, and after one final hug, Cade bade his friend goodbye.

  The walk back was blurry, flashes of street lights blaring red above, the streets slick from a light drizzle, and only a handful of people still about, none of whom Cade felt like talking to.

  A homeless man turned and began walking behind him. He listened to the hitching shuffle of the man’s feet. His mind imagining a gun in the dude’s pocket, a crack in the night, and a blossom of pain in his back.

  How many times can a man fantasize about his own death without ruining his chance of a day’s rest? And what else was there to do while at war?

  Talking of Iraq and now walking the street, his mind fought with images of a different city altogether. Mosul, years ago now, but still so fresh in his mind.

  Cade glanced from rooftop to alleyway, a few times over in succession, until he shook his head. No. Not anymore. There’s nobody there. Just look at the ground. He ignored the thoughts in his head as they turned darker, heading straight for his apartment, cutting past The Dirty Kitty once more.

  The music had been cut, and the door stood closed. Discarded gum and cigarette butts decorated the street, and Cade stumbled. His head swam for a second. Taking a deep breath, he moved on. No need to lose it so close to home.

  When he passed a side alley that led to a rear parking lot, Cade heard raised voices. One was definitely a female’s, and it didn’t sound happy.

  “Listen, it’s cool. I just wanna talk. Let me come over,” a man said, his voice quiet and insistent.

  “No, Brent, we talked about this. I’m done. Now let me go!”

  “Just fucking listen to me!”

  “Let me go!”

  The sound of a slap shot a surge of adrenaline through Cade’s body. His vision cleared somewhat, and he was suddenly walking toward two people, one pushed against the bumper of a car, the other gripping her wrist, using his body to pin her in place.

  It was the bartender girl, and she was holding her cheek, a tear sliding down her face. “This is why, Brent. This is exactly why.” Despite her position, her voice was hard.

  The man spoke in a placating tone that made Cade sick. He sounded like the worst kind of boyfriend. “If you’d just listen is all. We just wanna hang out. It could be fun. Come on, Lacie.”

  “She said no,” Cade barked, his voice projecting from his throat automatically.

  The two swiveled to see him, and a third figure, a taller man wearing a baseball hat and leather jacket, emerged from a shadow to the side of the alley. The newcomer held up a hand, holding his belt with the other. “Easy, bro. This is private. Okay? Just take off.”

  Cade’s response was cut in stone. “I’ll leave when she leaves. Just let her go.”

  Lacie seemed to recognize Cade. She tried to shake the jerk’s implacable hand from her wrist. Then turned to Cade, pleading, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I’m okay. You should go.”

  Cade stared down at the man’s hand, knuckles white as they gripped the girl, unyielding. “You don’t look okay. Let the girl go.”

  Brent did so, and predictably, swung his fist in a wide arc.

  Cade stepped forward, taking the blow on his left forearm while he snapped his right fist forward into the man’s throat. It wasn’t a hard blow, but it didn’t have to be. Brent stumbled back, falling to the ground and coughing.

  The girl’s throat produced an involuntary moan of fear, and Cade wobbled, booze and epinephrine rocking his system like a designer drug.

  Soundlessly, the other man closed in on him. He was almost as tall as Smith but a good deal heavier. Cade dodged one punch but the second caught him in the side of the head, grazing off his ear. The blow rattled his head, making Cade’s ears pop and ring. That wasn’t anything new though. He’d had ringing ears for over a decade now.

  His balance though, already compromised by a night on the town, failed him completely. He tumbled sideways, rolling to the ground heavily.

  Lacie’s voice calling for them to stop filled the alley, but the big man was on him, trying to straddle Cade’s chest to finish the fight.

  That was a mistake.

  Combatives training was something he had always enjoyed. Cade trapped the man’s ankle and popped one hip up, throwing him off balance. Pulling his opposite arm down, the man fell off, and Cade rolled up in a half guard. His opponent didn’t know shit about grappling. He didn’t even wrap his legs around him. So Cade pushed through into a top mount and rained punches into the bastard’s face. He felt a few teeth crack, then stared down, seeing that the guy was unconscious.

  Cade stood, a surge of vomit filling his mouth. A mix of dark beer, cheap whiskey, and a plate of shared bar fries tasted about as terrible as anyone might expect. He swallowed it back down and shook his head.

  He’d won though, there was that at least.

  Then a voice, shrill and terrible, called out, “Brent, don’t!”

  Cade looked up in time to see dickwad ex-boyfriend swing an empty liquor bottle into his face. The world began to fade, and Cade looked up at the gray, shapeless fog above, voices muffled as he blinked away the hot mess pouring from his forehead. His body shook as kicks landed in his sides, and he couldn’t feel a thing.

  Blessedly numb, Cade barely saw the last blow fall, a liter-sized bottle of black-label Jack D falling on his head.

  2

  Muscles and Minding the Gods-damned Demon

  Cade drifted in a mindless haze. Everything was nothing, and he was part of it all. Vaguely, he was aware of a myriad of other glimmering souls around him, each distinct yet suffused in the same expanse he was. It was peace, and it was ve
ry nearly a total lack of existence. No thoughts other than a mote of awareness coupled with contentment passed through him.

  Then rudely, Cade fell away, pulled by an inexorable force he had no strength to deny.

  His mind coalesced and his body formed. Fragments of matter sped together, forming connections and bonds at lightning speed. In only a few minutes or moments, Cade was floating, his body the same tired mess he was used to. The familiar scars, pudgy belly, and blemishes were all there. He was naked.

  “Welcome, Caderick Shelby Clarke, and congratulations. You have been selected by the Interdimensional Council to be resurrected and spawned within the world of Antinium.”

  “What? Who said that? I don’t understand,” Cade mumbled. It was infinitely strange having a mouth again after existing without a body. He fumbled at his face with clumsy hands and stared around the empty haze for any sign of the speaker.

  A small figure buzzed around in front of him, a purple, oily-looking creature that resembled a thought bubble cut out from a comic book. “I have spoken, Caderick. Can you see me?”

  “Yes. You’re purple. What the hell are you?”

  “I am a helper demon. It is my job to greet and guide those who have the great privilege of traveling to another dimension. There are fewer travelers these days as many realms have been discontinued. Yet Antinium remains.”

  Cade stared at the little trash bag. His mind buzzed with questions. What is Antinium? What the hell is a helper demon? And where was I before I woke to this twisted ass dream? Then asked the least of the questions that plagued him, yet in an obvious way, the most immediate. “Any way I can get dressed?” He had no clue what the demon would think of a pudgy man in his birthday suit, but he would prefer to have some pants at the very least.

  The demon flashed a brighter purple a moment, then answered. “You will be respawned with a single unit of basic clothing. For now, it is best that we focus on the Character Customization process. It will only take a few minutes. The first thing you must do is select a class. Are you ready?”

  Like many of his generation, Cade played far too many video games, and as fun as this sounded, it was also catshit crazy. “Hang on. Why am I here? I met up with Smith and then…” He cut off, his memory going blank after the fight in the alley.

  “And you expired. I am sorry. It is not something I can comprehend in the slightest, but most mortals seem attached to their lives.”

  “Expired!” Cade yelled. He looked all round, in every direction; nothing but an impenetrable gray surrounded him. Then he remembered the time after, the endless expanse of time where he’d had no body. The oddest part of the experience was not the difficulty in coming to terms with a demon helper and resurrection. That all seemed like small change compared to the vastness he’d experienced of being one with all of creation. It was getting used to this again, being condensed into an individual perspective, that made his head spin. “Expired. Okay, so I’m dead. Shit.”

  The purple bastard just hung there before him, occasionally changing in its shade of color somewhat, but otherwise waiting for Cade to come to grips with his situation.

  Finally, without any other recourse, Cade said, “So I’m dead. And I was chosen by who to go where?”

  “The Interdimensional Council, a wise and prestigious body composed of learned souls, deities both benevolent and otherwise, who have served since long before my creation several millennia ago to govern existence. I am hoping to get in some day, but they tend to hold their seats for a frightfully long time.” Then remembering the last question, the demon added, “Oh, and to Antinium. It has many names but most call it Last World. It is a realm set apart for the Council’s amusement. Souls who have met certain criteria, in your case, sacrificing your life in defense of another, can qualify an individual. However, many of the decisions remain somewhat random. Souls from several different realms are chosen, so the populace is incredibly diverse.”

  Considering the demon’s words, Cade shook his head. It was all quite ridiculous. But as proof, he was talking to a sentient bubble and floating in a sea of nothing, completely naked. He forced his spinning thoughts to a halt. He needed to focus.

  “Got it. Now, I get to choose a class?”

  “Excellent! Your integration was quicker than average. Yes, there are many options to choose from. Here are some of the most popular.”

  As the demon stopped talking, three columns of faceless figures ran before him in endless rows. Warrior classes with shining armor, with sword and shield; ranged fighters holding bows, crossbows, and slings; and casters with staff or wand, lined up before him. Below each a tiny plaque hung, and in a poor, handwritten font, the name of the class was listed.

  “Who wrote those?” Cade couldn’t help himself. Everything else was pristine about the place, but the handwriting looked to be done by a five-year-old.

  The demon coughed, a bit of purple smoke emerging from all around it. “I did. Is it well done?”

  Cade laughed. The thing was nervous. It began flashing more rapidly, so Cade decided to be polite. “Oh, it is fine work indeed. Well done.”

  In a tone of solemn gratitude, the demon said, “Thank you, Caderick Shelby Clarke. I worked for a very long time labeling them all.”

  Ignoring his desire to poke fun at the thing, Cade began reading the labels, and as he looked to those to either side, the column he was looking at would shift and rotate. He read several that looked promising.

  Viking Warrior, Galmine Savage, Krashtel Berserker. The list went on, and he was still only focusing on the warrior classes.

  He looked at many of the casters, their own titles as odd and mysterious as the others had been. Sin Acolyte, Bloodied Apothecary, Fafniri Death Lord, were but a few.

  The ranged classes looked cool too, some of the figures holding weapons Cade couldn’t even identify. But no, he couldn’t get lost here. He had to narrow this down. “Can I get rid of the casters and ranged classes? This is too much, and I want a warrior class, that much is clear.”

  Instantly, the bottom two columns disappeared. Cade breathed a bit easier. Too many choices was a surefire way to have an anxiety attack.

  Still, Cade spent the better part of an hour going through his options. At no point did he come to an end of options. Occasionally, he would stop and ask the demon for information regarding a specific class. In an ever-patient voice, the assistant demon would respond. “The Mindless Marauder is known for sacrificing stored memories for temporary boosts in combat prowess. Though their skills are powerful, many avoid such a class as when overused, the Marauder becomes a being with no memory at all, living moment to moment in mindless torment.” Or “Yes, as you can see, the Arcane Skinwalker is a terrifying creation. It not only embodies those it devours, capable of becoming any number of creatures, but it can likewise utilize their skills and magic.”

  Many of the choices left Cade feeling sick to his stomach. The thought of eating dead bodies to gain power was not an option. But at the end, he found a class that intrigued him.

  “What of the Chimera Lord? What does it do?”

  “Interesting and rare class. The Chimera Lord gains power by adopting the capabilities of any animal they destroy in combat. Then, when leveling up, one may increase their abilities by adopting the traits of that animal. For instance, Electrification is a trait taken from any number of freshwater eels and a few sharks. Though there are only two species of such animals that live in Antinium, however.”

  Cade thought about it and felt drawn to the concept. There must be a catch though, he thought, not wanting to make a mistake at this important juncture. “As a Chimera Lord, would I have a bunch of weird body parts then? Like scales and a creepy scorpion tail?”

  “Very few traits require an actual modification of the body. Most cause very subtle changes to your body visually. Many find the Chimera Lords to be quite striking, not at all grotesque if that is what you’re worried about.”

  The endless possibilities and possibly
hours of critical thinking were making Cade’s head ache. Time to put a bow on this bitch already, he thought, then chose Chimera Lord as his class.

  “Excellent. The Chimera Lord class allows you to choose one of three starting metabolism traits. You can only choose one of these, so pay attention. Other traits, that enhance your skin, teeth, nails, musculature, and bone structure can be acquired as you adventure. Your three options are as follows:

  “1- Saurian Metabolism: By adopting a saurian metabolism, your body is capable of incredible power and speed, and requires less food to function at full capacity. Your Strength and Constitution are increased substantially as is your resistance to infection and poisons. Limitations- Reduced Dexterity as well as a weakness to cold, magic, and reduced stamina.

  “2- Avian Metabolism: By adopting an avian metabolism, your body is capable of incredible speed and agility. Your Dexterity and Strength are increased substantially, as is your resistance to magical attacks and disease. Limitations- Reduced Constitution as well as weakness to ranged attacks, blunt damage, and reduced attack power.

  “3- Lycan Metabolism: By adopting a lycan metabolism, your body is capable of incredible agility, endurance, and health regeneration. Your Constitution and Dexterity are increased substantially as is your resistance to poison and magical attacks. Limitations- Reduced Wisdom as well as a weakness to environmental heat, piercing damage, and an increased food consumption.”

  Cade thought about each option and chose Lycan almost immediately. Lizard bro could smash the best, and Bird bro was quick, but Cade somehow knew he would be getting wounded, potentially often, in this new world, and the health regeneration alone stood out as a smart move. “Lycan Metabolism,” he announced. “What’s next?”