Daemonorg Prison-Lab: A Dark LitRPG / LitFPS SciFi-Shooter (Overtaken Online Book 1)

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Daemonorg Prison-Lab: A Dark LitRPG / LitFPS SciFi-Shooter (Overtaken Online Book 1) Page 24

by Ben Ormstad


  “It is awfully quiet, is it not?” Hiko whispered behind me.

  Apart from junk crunching under our boots, I couldn’t hear anything. “Yeah,” I grunted. Fleeting images of Frida and Ayamii’s bloody remains flickered through my mind as I used my shoulder to push aside the hatch, which had been ripped off its hinges and blocked the entrance. It screeched against the steps before toppling over and tumbling down beside me. Hiko threw it the rest of the way down.

  Stepping up and out of the stairway, I swallowed dryly as I let the flashlight’s bright beam glide around the dark room.

  “Holy shit,” I said, barely audible. All the beds, shelves and other things that had been laying overturned in piles when I went down the hatch earlier, were now mostly destroyed. It looked like a humongous bulldozer had crushed everything to smithereens.

  Hiko came up beside me. “What happened here?”

  “Everything went to shit, apparently,” I said, then shouted: “Frida! Are you here?”

  Dead walls replied with silence.

  Shoving aside interior transformed into broken trash, I walked closer to the center of the room, continuously gliding the flashlight beam from side to side. I holstered the weapon and unclipped the walkie-talkie. Pressed the big button and said: “Frida, we’re back from the cellar laboratory. Can you hear me?”

  Still no answer.

  “This is hopeless,” I said. “We should just consider them lost.”

  Hiko’s eyes widened. With the tip of his gun he pointed to the opposite side of the room. “Mr. Walsh, keep talking in the radio.”

  “What’s the point, man – she’s definitely dead and gone.”

  “Just do it.”

  “Whatever,” I said, pressed the talkie’s communication button again. “Frida, shit, I don’t know, but it was nice knowing ya while it lasted, you know?”

  Hiko jogged in the direction he had pointed.

  “Perhaps we’ll meet again,” I continued. “Could be cool, right? Maybe we–”

  “Mr. Walsh, over here.”

  I clipped the radio to my belt, equipped the gun and zigzagged through junk laying all over the place. The Exit signs above the doors still intact draped the interior in a mellow, green glow. By the main doorway – the one leading out to the area where my grenade exploded the concrete island with plants and statues – I saw remains of the three drone-heads I’d killed. Crushed to dust-like pieces like everything else here.

  I found Hiko standing bent over by a badly burned, cracked wall. “What’s up?”

  He brushed dirt from something on the floor. “Your voice came from this,” he said and gave me a walkie-talkie identical to mine.

  “It’s hers, for sure,” I said. “Fuck.”

  “She might still be alive.”

  “Of course she’s still alive,” I spit. “This is a frikkin’ game. But she’s spawned God-knows-where.”

  “What I mean, Mr. Walsh, is she might still be here,” he said, gesturing around us. “I do not see any bodies. Do you?”

  “No,” I admitted. “You’re right. Not even traces of blood.”

  “I take it she was your girlfriend?”

  The question came so unexpectedly I laughed. “What? No, not at all. We’ve barely known each other more than a few hours.”

  He arched his eyebrows. “Then why is it such a big deal where she is?”

  “Because she’s pretty damn awesome, and, you know, I was kinda hoping we’d get to know each other better.”

  “And then make her your girlfriend?” Hiko said, grinning uncharacteristically broadly.

  “Dude, what the fuck? I’m mourning the death of–” I immediately caught myself before finishing the sentence. My dead wife was no-one’s business. How did I slip up? I swallowed a dense knot and corrected myself: “I was hoping to maybe eventually form a group or something with her, okay?”

  Suddenly, Frida’s silky-smooth voice penetrated my ear and scared the living crap out of me: “Play your cards right and that might indeed happen.”

  I rotated on my heels, toward the room’s exit. The light outside colored her well-formed silhouette dark. Her shadow stretched across the trash on the floor like an inviting shadow-hand. “You… you dropped your radio,” I said.

  “Indeed, I did,” she said, took the talkie. She shot Hiko a glance, nodded at him. “Hey, I’m Frida. And you?”

  “Hiko Yazuka, ma’am,” Hiko said and bowed. “Level 2, Battle-Marine.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she said, not returning his formal introduction. “Dex, Ayamii can’t move. Come quickly.”

  Following her back out to the connection point between the biotech labs, I noticed she walked with a severe limp. Through the rustled strands of her long hair, a large tear across the back of her leather jacket was visible. Whatever caused it had cut deep and revealed bloodied skin underneath. Solidified blood clung to a rift running down her thigh.

  “What happened to the Bio-Drone Screamers?”

  Without looking at me, she said: “They seemed to materialize out of thin air. Kind of freaked me out at first, to be honest.”

  “You said there were four of ‘em?”

  “When they surprise-attacked, Ayamii wasn’t fast enough to dodge the electric balls they spat at us. I thought they’d already won, which is why I contacted you.” As she lead us past the destroyed statues and plants, she waved her hand to the left. “But yes, there were four of them – as you can see.”

  In a pile of broken paneling and pieces of wood fallen from the ceiling, lay four dead Bio-Drone Screamers – completely sliced and destroyed. The metal top parts cleanly separated from the human/dog-like faces.

  “Damn,” I said. “So, you took them out yourself, all alone?”

  “I had to. Besides, turned out it wasn’t as hard as I thought, they being only Level 4. Ayamii’s right here,” she said and rounded the crater of statues and plants.

  “Only Level 4?” Hiko said behind me.

  “Indeed. I’m at Level 6, so it’s not too bad – unless they’re many.”

  “Four weren’t many, Miss…?” He looked at her expectantly.

  “No,” she said. “But six or seven probably would have.”

  I passed her and found Ayamii splayed out on the floor among scraggy blocks of concrete and tiles. Clothes scorched, his purple skin darkened by bruises, blood and burned sores. Trying no to react too strongly to his mangled body, I exhaled slowly and kneeled by him. Lifted his round head. “Hey, buddy. How are ya holding up?”

  The humanoid’s hairless face flashed with joy for a second, before continuing through his eternally changing expressions. “Dex. G-glad to see you again, friend. It’s… it’s only a f-f-flesh wound.” Hoarse laughter stirred deep in his throat.

  “Uh, heh,” I half laughed politely. A click sounded from my throat as I swallowed. The drone-heads must’ve hit him more or less spot on with an electro cluster. “By the way, I have some good news. I found a nuclear modulator for the Genetic Re-Assembler.”

  Another flash of joy mixed in with his stream of changing expressions. “R-really?”

  “You bet. Was able to extract it from what I think was a huge-ass, mean gene-splicing machine. Got it right here,” I said and patted my jeans’ front pocket. I then gestured toward Hiko behind me. “Not only did I get that, but by doing so I also saved this fine gentleman from possibly becoming an unknown blob of mutant goo.”

  A scratchy laugh stirred in Ayamii’s throat again.

  Hiko said something, but I ignored him and continued: “So you just hang in here, okay? It’s important we get both you and the assembler parts back to your community.”

  Ayamii placed a shaking hand on top of mine. A draft of vanilla oozed from him. “I am s-sorry I couldn’t help you find the secret chest you’re looking for.”

  I shrugged. “Relax. Don’t worry about it. You couldn’t have known somebody had moved it.”

  “Still, I’m s-sorry. But Dex, if I don’t make it… will
you… c-can you bring the parts back to the Mishaps Community doctor for me?”

  A prompt appeared in my field of vision:

  AVAILABLE QUEST UPGRADE

  LOCATE GENETIC RE-ASSEMBLER PARTS – COMPLETED 1 OF 3

  Help Ayamii find the two parts needed for the mishaps’ community doctor to complete the Genetic Re-Assembler, and promise to deliver the parts with or without him:

  1) Nuclear Modulator – V

  2) XP Transmutation Core

  [NEW] 3) Deliver the parts to Ayamii’s community doctor

  Rewards

  Assistance: Guide to Darius’ Hidden Stash

  XP: Unknown 1000

  Cash: Unknown

  Items: Unknown

  And most importantly: Ayamii’s undying gratitude

  “I…” I began, and before continuing, Frida jumped in:

  “We’ll do it! Count on us, Ayamii.”

  I looked over my shoulder at her. “You sure?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “What about your own mission? Last time we spoke there wasn’t much leeway for other things to fill your time.”

  “Shut up, Dex,” she snorted. “I’ve got time. I’ll make time.”

  “All righty, then,” I said, feeling a pinch of happiness swirl in my stomach. Still, something seemed off, since she’d been so skeptical when I first accepted Ayamii’s assistance in exchange for helping him with the assembler parts. What had changed?

  I made eye contact with Hiko. “What about you, man?”

  He lifted his arms so the decontamination suit’s plastic-like material crackled. “I need new clothes. Also, my supplies. Other than that, I have nothing planned.”

  “So that’s a ‘yes’ – you’ll join as well?”

  “Sure, Mr. Walsh.”

  I turned back to the wounded humanoid. “Okay, Ayamii, we all accept.”

  “Tha-thank you so incredibly much,” he said hoarsely.

  “But you’re not going to die, not now, not in a long time. I’ll make sure of it,” I said, then looking back at Frida: “Have you used all your magic points?”

  Her lips twitched downward as she nodded. “Yes, every single drop. That’s how I restored his health – just enough to stop the bleeding and keep him alive.”

  “Too bad we can’t share MP, because I’m full and can’t even use ‘em yet!”

  Hiko stepped forward, eyeing Ayamii with what looked like a mix of compassion, disgust and indifference. “I might have a first aid kit in my storage.”

  “You have a storage, inside this prison-lab?” Frida said, not for a second trying to hide that her tone practically oozed mistrust.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  As she turned to face him, I noticed her fingers close around the hilt of the machete hanging at her waist. “How’s that possible – didn’t Dex save you just now?”

  “He did. I owe him my life,” Hiko said, his gaze unflinching, but she didn’t let him off that easy:

  “If you’re only Level 2, were just trapped and you’re not teamed up with the enemy, then how exactly have you been able to secure your own storage?”

  “Frida,” I interjected. “Probably the same way Darius hid away his stash, don’t ya think?”

  Her fingers curled around the machete’s hilt for real. “Let the man answer the question.” Ayamii and I jumped as her blade swung with such speed we clearly heard it swoosh through the air. The cutting edge stopped two inches from Hiko’s Adam’s apple.

  His cheeks bulged from clenching teeth. The yellow suit crackled when he lifted both hands. “Ma’am, I can assure you I am not an enemy. I am Hiko Yazuka, a fresh Battle-Marine, and a business owner from New York. Well, originally Japan, but my parents moved to the States while I was still a child.”

  “What are these s-strange places he talks about?” Ayamii said to me.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said, put his head down and stood up beside Frida. Carefully cupped my hand over her weapon hand. Slowly pushed it down and away from Hiko’s throat.

  “Take a breath, girl,” I whispered in her ear. “No need to threaten him. He helped me as well.”

  She gave me a sideways glance.

  “I did?” Hiko said.

  “You helped me get a decontamination suit and helped me stop the fire. We’d both be dead right now if you hadn’t.”

  Angry micro-expressions twitched in Frida’s beautiful face. “That’s the point, he’d been dead if he hadn’t helped you help him.”

  “Jesus, chick, calm your tits,” I said, using more force to push her machete out of the way. “We’re not exactly drowning in friendly faces here, okay? Let the poor fucker prove he’s on our side. I gave you and Darius a chance, didn’t I?”

  The way her crystal blue eyes exploded galaxies staring at me, I legitimately believed for a second she’d use the machete to transform me into chopped meat.

  But then she laughed.

  Then I laughed.

  And Ayamii.

  Even Hiko’s tightly sealed lips relaxed a tad and formed a quasi-smile.

  She abruptly stopped, stepped closer to him and whispered: “I expect a MedKit for Ayamii when we find your storage.”

  “Yes, ma’am. If I have one, Ayamii will get it,” he said, and added: “I might even have a thing or two for you.”

  Frida sheathed her machete and snorted. “Don’t expect me to take it.”

  31

  After a hefty discussion, I finally convinced Frida to let Hiko watch Ayamii while she and I inspected the remaining rooms in the area. If we were to find the last Genetic Re-Assembler part, I was certain it had to be somewhere around here.

  We began by checking the room to the far right, which wasn’t a laboratory at all. Furniture, coffee tables, chairs and cupboards with kitchen utensils screamed lunch break room. Five minutes later we’d still not found anything noteworthy and ditched it. Walked back out to try the next door.

  By the crater of statues and plants, I saw Hiko dutifully stand guard, head moving from side to side, scouting, while Ayamii still lay sprawled out on the floor. They talked in low voices.

  I caught Frida scowling at Hiko. “Ever since we met up again you’ve been on edge. Did something happen while you and Ayamii were alone?”

  “No.” She stopped by the door to the right of the three adjacent ones on the long wall in the main area.

  “You know you can tell me, right?”

  Her scowl flipped from Hiko to me. “Do I?”

  “Yeah, sure, why wouldn’t you?”

  She positioned herself to the left of the doorway while I readied the Rap-Attack, turned the doorknob and opened it carefully. Thick darkness greeted us on the inside. My flashlight split it open with a beam illuminating the interior and the polished white floor.

  “Let’s be real, Dex. I’m grateful that you saved me from winding up as spider-food, but it doesn’t change the fact we’ve known each other less than half a day.”

  I stopped at the threshold and hushed her by raising an open hand. A faint rumbling lay in the background soundscape, but I couldn’t make out what it was. Swiping the light-beam over the room, empty beds, shelves with books and binders, and tables with medical equipment lit up. No enemies. No living things at all.

  Cautiously, I stepped inside with the Rap-Attack leveled, and said: “You’re right, of course, we barely know each other. Still, we’ve experienced one helluva trip so far. Gotta count for something.”

  She followed suit, switched on a flashlight she’d found while we were separated, and kept her own rifle ready. Finally, she whispered: “I guess you’re right, too. Our time together, however short, does count for something.”

  I cracked a smile. “Glad to hear it. So what’s the matter?”

  She sighed. “It’s too personal, Dex. We just haven’t known each other long enough to start talking about that.”

  Our soles squeaked against the polished floor while I tried thinking up something to say that wouldn’t furthe
r complicate our seemingly frail relationship. “Will you be okay, though?”

  “Yes, it’s not as if I can do anything about it anyway,” she muttered.

  “Frida.” I stopped and placed my hand on her shoulder for just a second. “Even if you think we don’t know each other well enough yet, if you ever feel like sharing or need someone to talk to, I’m here, okay?”

  Meeting my eyes, and hopefully feeling my sincerity, her uptight expression mellowed and she almost smiled. “Sure, Dex. We’ll see.” Her leather jacket rustled as she pulled away and silently diverged from my path, tiptoeing around a cluster of beds to the left.

  I counted that as a tiny win, and hopefully she’d learn to eventually trust me. I continued along the opposite side of the beds, breathing in a flowery laundry detergent fragrance coming from the bedsheets, blending with the ever-present smell of antiseptic.

  A high-pitched click popped. Frida had flicked a switch. Turning, she said: “No light, it seems.”

  I nodded. “Let me know if you find a fuse box. I know how to make ‘em work.”

  She gave a thumbs up and continued searching.

  Passing another bed, I glanced at a shelf on the right. It sported a row of books in varying sizes. Old gaming habits kicked in, so I shouldered the rifle and scanned a few titles. Curiously enough, they were all in English, which indicated the game developers hadn’t gone through the trouble of translating everything to Daemonorg’s native tongue. Although I suspected it wasn’t a real language at all.

  Just to experience the quality of the different book textures, I slid my index finger along the book spines. Some new and smooth, others ragged and flaky.

  Technology and You – A Field Study

  The King’s Adventures

  Zombies, Pigs and Poisonous Relationships

  I, Singularity

  Bobby & Friends Kill Orcs and Goblins

  Intrigued, I stopped and went back to the thick book named I, Singularity.

 

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