by Baron Sord
A hideous smile peeled across the lips of the fat man. “I get her first,” he whispered.
All sound stopped.
Every raindrop froze in midair, flickering and straining in place as if they still felt the pull of gravity but couldn’t heed it.
For a moment, Emily thought time had literally stopped.
A great boom overhead caught everyone’s attention. There was a tremendous whooshing sound followed by cold wind buffeting her face. Despite the sudden wind, the raindrops remained frozen where they hung.
Emily’s instinct was to flee, but she couldn’t move. All she could do was watch.
Above, a dark shape tore through the storm clouds, plummeting toward earth. Great wings beat hard as it landed, sending waves of frozen rain pelting against Emily’s face. The two men shielded their eyes with their arms. Emily tried to lift hers to do the same, but she couldn’t move.
The black beast was serpentine and reeked of death. Torn flesh hung from exposed bones. Gray muscles stretched between rickety limbs. Tendons flexed and pulled as it settled heavily into the mud, hundreds of tons. One eye socket was dead and empty. The other cupped a clouded milky eye that swiveled and locked on Emily’s beating heart as if it could hear it pounding. A dusty gray tongue slithered out from its long jaws and savored the taste of her fear.
She thought, I need to run, Ineedtorun, runrunrun—
A lone rider draped in a tattered black cowl hunched on the black beast’s back. The rider slid slowly to the ground and drifted toward them, dragging its black cloak through the mud.
Was it walking or floating?
Emily couldn’t tell because the cloak was too long, but she didn’t see legs moving. Or feet. Did it have feet?
The two men sheathed their swords and bowed as they backed away cautiously, giving the cowled rider ample space.
The mysterious figure stared at Emily, its face a black hole of infinite darkness that radiated hatred and death.
With decrepit sluggishness, a bandaged mummified hand reached out and pulled a rusted sword from the battered scabbard belted to its waist. It held the brown blade high over its head. Strings of cobwebs clung to it, drifting lazily on currents of air.
For a moment, Emily believed it was about to chop her head off.
Instead, it leveled the sword at one of the many large blackened trees in the distance. A blurry beam of black energy billowed from the sword like smoke and rippled through the air, wafting toward the tree before swirling around it from top to bottom.
Nothing happened.
Relief.
Emily exhaled heavily. She’d been holding her breath so long, she was ready to pass out.
Wood cracked.
Bark crunched.
The tree began to move, roots pulling out of the dark mud like thick snakes. Ten branches slowly lowered like lumbering arms, twigs twisting into twenty-fingered hands. The headless dead tree-thing lurched toward her on ten crooked roots that coiled and uncoiled, the sound of burnt bark crackling as it crawled.
Emily wanted to run, but she was paralyzed, held by dark magic and her own dark fear.
The headless tree-thing towered in front of her. Two roots twisted around her ankles and up her legs. Two branches wrapped around her arms. A third and fourth tightened around her chest and circled her neck, choking her slowly. The bark scraped her skin as it slid, cutting her cheeks and lips.
Two twigs spiraled under the witch’s bridle and poked up her nose, surging toward her brain.
Emily finally screamed.
The tree thing folded all its limbs around her and pulled her into its trunk, muffling her cries. It coiled its way back to where it had uprooted itself from the sloppy mud and sank back into the ground where it resumed its original dead form.
The cloaked figure sheathed its rusty sword, turned to the two men, and spoke the words of a ghost, “You may collect your reward.”
Both men swallowed hard, hiding their unease.
The dark figure climbed onto its mount and took to the sky.
The men stared at each other, speechless until they were sure the Mind Wraith was long gone.
Both heaved sighs of relief, shrugging off their own tendrils of fear as the rain resumed moving.
“Kaw!” A lone raven that had sat silently on the branch of a nearby tree suddenly took flight and disappeared into the darkness. Like Emily, it too had been paralyzed by terror until the cowled rider had departed.
The men ignored the raven and began their long walk back.
SmokeyLoki:> Who u think that chick was IRL?
FranktheGank:> Probly some slutty rich bitch slumming it up here in-game.
SmokeyLoki:> Does this mean she’s dead IRL?
FranktheGank:> No. Mind-locked. Like being in a coma until someone logs her out or pulls her NeuraLink off.
SmokeyLoki:> She can’t log herself out?
FranktheGank:> Nope.
SmokeyLoki:> Sucks to be her. I kinda feel bad.
FranktheGank:> What do u care? We just got paid $5K each in Bitcoins for two hours work. You know how many hookers I can buy with $5K IRL?
SmokeyLoki:> Not as many as you can buy in-game.
FranktheGank:> Hahaha.
SmokeyLoki:> What about her? Is she gonna be in a coma forever?
FranktheGank:> Forget about her. Far as I’m concerned, that bitch is nothin but 1s and 0s.
SmokeyLoki:> More like all 0s now.
In-game, both men laughed while they walked.
In the real world, it was a different story…
—: Chapter 1 :—
Thursday, March 12th, 2037
One day earlier
The Real World
The day before my life went off the rails like a runaway monorail, I had no idea how bad things were going to get. The day before disaster, I was a happy camper.
Like I did every weekday, I walked to the bus stop five blocks from my apartment so I could walk Benjamin Cowett home. Ben was a 12 year old kid who lived in the apartment next to mine with his mom Harper. She worked two jobs and I picked up the slack for her whenever I could. Nobody knew where the dad was.
I waited with the other parents for the school bus to show up. This wasn’t the greatest neighborhood, so nobody wanted their kids walking home alone if they could help it. Since I worked nights as a bartender and Harper worked days, I didn’t mind helping her out. Plus, Benjamin was a cool kid. Total nerd who reminded me of my brother Jason when we were little. And maybe a little bit of myself. But that was 16 years ago. Me and my brother had changed a ton since then.
The big yellow school bus rolled to a stop, the brakes squealing ice picks through my eardrums. Somebody needed to shim those brake pads. The doors opened and a yammering herd of middle school kids spilled out.
I leaned against a telephone pole and watched through the bus windows as Ben waddled down the center aisle, squeezed between the other kids. He hadn’t seen me yet. When he reached the front of the bus, he turned and lowered himself carefully down the steps.
“Move it, fatso,” some prick behind Ben yelled before shoving him.
I hated kids like that.
Ben stumbled but grabbed the railing and caught himself before stepping onto the sidewalk, hiding his embarrassment.
The bus driver hollered, “Hey! Knock it off, you two!” But the driver didn’t get up. Just sat behind the wheel and let it happen. Didn’t take the prick aside to explain the basics of human civility. Lazy bum. As a side note, in 2037, school buses were required by law to have a human driver behind the wheel at all times despite the stellar safety record of self-driving vehicles. But school bus drivers weren’t bouncers or baby sitters. They generally didn’t know how to lay down the law.
Good thing I did. I closely watched the prick who’d pushed Ben. He was now walking along the sidewalk right behind Ben. In the most annoying voice imaginable, the prick said, “Don’t you know how to walk, fat ass?”
Ben pretended th
e prick didn’t exist.
I didn’t. I wanted to grab the prick by the neck and shake some sense into him. I also wanted to give Ben a chance to work this out for himself. If he stood up for himself, the prick might leave him alone next time. But I was ready to step in the second things went south.
The prick had two friends who both laughed at Ben like this was normal. The three of them were nipping at Ben’s heels like a pack of hungry hyenas following a weak and wounded wildebeest.
Inside, I was dying while wishing Ben would turn around and tell them to fuck off. A loud commanding voice went a long way when it came to middle school bullies. Being meek only made it worse. I could tell these kids were opportunists. All Ben had to do was show them he wasn’t afraid and they’d probably back down. I kept saying to myself, Come on, Ben. Just say something to them. Stand up to them. Anything would help.
Ben hadn’t seen me yet because he was staring at the sidewalk like it was the only thing in existence. He was scared. Poor kid.
By now, the bus had driven off and the kids and parents were all scattered, walking home in four different directions. Of course, the three hyenas didn’t have caring parents to keep their bad behavior in check. They were on their own. Same old story.
“Are you deaf?” the prick hollered at Ben, shoving his shoulder yet again. “I said, don’t you know how to walk, Cow Sweat?”
Ben cringed but he ignored it.
I couldn’t take any more of this. I walked toward them.
Right then, the prick hooked a foot around Ben’s ankle, trying to trip him from behind.
Ben stumbled forward.
“Easy, buddy,” I said as I caught him by the arms and stood him up.
“Logan!” Ben smiled big. “I thought you weren’t coming to pick me up today!”
I smirked, “You kidding? Of course I am.” Still holding Ben by the shoulders, I glared over at the prick.
The little prick glared at me like he could kick my ass, “Are you two guys going to kiss now?”
I chuckled, “Nah. But I might give you a fat lip if you don’t keep your mouth shut.” I let go of Ben’s shoulders and turned him to face the prick.
Looking directly at Ben, the prick snarled, “You’re lucky your boyfriend saved your ass today, Benjamin.” He said it like Benjamin was a girl’s name.
I’d had it. I couldn’t kick this kid’s ass because he was a kid. But I could scare him. I walked up to him and stopped 4 inches away. He was pretty tall for 12, but I still towered over him. He had to crane his neck to look up at me.
I narrowed my eyes. “Take a swing at me, punk.”
The prick swallowed hard. “What?”
“Take a swing. Nobody’s around. You won’t get in trouble. Go for it.”
The prick started to shake nervously.
His two buddies backed away slowly.
Still staring at the prick, I said, “Where you guys going? You two are next.”
The two henchmen froze in place.
One said, “Sorry, man. I… it’s just… we were… sorry?”
“Yeah, you better be sorry.” I didn’t look at him. Just stared at the prick.
The third kid said, “I gotta go, you guys. I’m going to be late for…” For what, he didn’t know.
I looked at the two henchmen. “Yeah, you guys should go. But I’ve got business with your friend here.” Meaning the prick.
His two friends exchanged frightened glances before turning and walking quickly back down the sidewalk. Before long, they were running.
When they were gone, I smiled at the prick, “Guess it’s just you and me and Ben now, huh?”
The prick’s face screwed up with hate and he glared over at Ben.
“Don’t look at him,” I said. “This is between you and me.”
“Yeah, Derek,” Ben said gleefully.
“Quiet, Ben,” I said calmly. “So, Derek. What’s it gonna be? You gonna leave off my friend Ben? Or am I gonna make you miserable from here until forever? It’s your choice, bud. If I hear from Ben you’re giving him any more shit at school, or here in the neighborhood, or wherever, we’ve got a problem. Understand?”
Quivering, the prick stared up at me, his face pale.
“Do you understand?”
The kid nodded.
“Okay. Get out of here.”
The kid turned and sprinted down the street. At the end of the block, he stopped and spun. “My older brother is going to kill you! He’s in a gang! You’re so dead, fuckface! Soooo dead!”
I laughed and shouted, “Yeah? Tell your brother I’ll be here tomorrow! Then I can kick both your asses! You better bring guns because I’m bringing mine! And tell your brother to bring the gang!” I knew the gangs in our neighborhood and I knew this kid didn’t have a brother in any of them.
The prick’s face knotted like a sniveling rat. He flipped me off before turning and running away. From around the corner, his voice echoed back, “Faggot!”
I chuckled to myself. Yet another middle school villain. I turned to Ben.
He was smiling huge. “Thanks, Logan.”
“Any time, my man. Any time.”
We started walking toward our apartment building.
“You really showed those assholes,” Ben said.
“Yeah, but you need to show them next time. That kid Derek is a bully, but he’s also a coward. I could see it in his eyes. You just need to stand up to him, man. He’ll leave you alone. I promise.”
“What if he doesn’t?” Ben’s dread was plain as day.
“He will.” I hoped I was right. Time would tell. I’d worry about it if something else happened. “Hey, I got something for you.” I pulled an old folded copy of The Amazing Spider-Man #600 out of my back pocket. Got it from this grandpa named Gus who lived in our neighborhood. Gus had boxes and boxes of dusty and dog-eared paper comics in his garage. Nowadays, all you could get was digital, but Gus was a hoarder. His comics weren’t worth anything, but I’d always offer him 10 or 20 bucks per issue, depending how old the issue was, because he needed the money. We’d haggle for a while because he loved haggling, but I’d never drop my price below 10 bucks, and I wouldn’t pay more than 20 because I wasn’t rich.
Ben’s eyes gleamed as he paged through the issue. “Wow! It’s got Doc Ock! He’s my favorite! And Daredevil!”
“Him too,” I chuckled. I’d already flipped through the book while waiting for Ben’s bus. It was packed with 100 pages of comic book goodness. “The Avengers show up too.”
“Really?”
“And the Fantastic Four.”
“Nice!”
“And it’s drawn by none other than John Romita Jr. The man himself.”
“His art is so sick!”
“Yeah it is. We can read it back at the apartment.” When I was a kid, my dad used to read paper comic books with me. Reading Spider-Man with Ben brought back good memories. I’d make sound effects and re-enact the fights with Ben just like Dad used to do with me. “But you gotta read it to me this time, man. I can’t do all the reading myself.”
“Yeah, okay,” Ben said uncertainly.
Ben hated reading, but he’d read comics. Especially if we read them together. Just something else I did to help out. His mom Harper always tried to pay me for the comics I gave him, but I wouldn’t let her. She needed to pay rent and grocery bills.
By the time Harper came home from work that night, Ben and I had read through Spidey #600 twice, and 20 of the other old comics I’d already given him. Harper thanked me like always and insisted I eat dinner with her and Ben. I did.
After, when I was walking out the door, Ben said, “Hey, Logan. You wanna play Magic: The Gathering tomorrow after school? I built a new deck just for you. I think you’ll like it.”
I smirked, “Do I have any chance of winning this time?”
Ben shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe?”
Harper hid a giggle.
I threw a wink at her. She knew no matter how much Ben
taught me about Magic, the kid smoked my ass every time we played. And that was with me trying to win. Kid was a genius at the game. I smiled at him and said, “Yeah, we’ll play tomorrow. But you gotta go easy on me, okay? Let me win at least once.”
Ben grinned, “Okay. But only once.”
I laughed and said goodnight to them both before walking to the monorail station. I hopped on the blue line and went to work with a huge smile on my face.
Yeah, that day was business as usual.
But the next morning, my life really did go off the rails like a monorail sailing off the track at 190mph before slamming into the side of a mountain and killing everybody inside.
—: o o o :—
Friday, March 13th, 2037
9:00am
The Real World
This was the ransom email I found in my inbox Friday morning after I woke up, typos and all:
=============
Friday, March 12th, 2037 at 5:17am
From: Emily Byrne
<[email protected]>
To: Logan Byrne
Subject: i love you!
+2 files attached
Emily Jordan Byrne is mindlocked.
Pay $150,000 USD money to bitcoin address:
E8s41nPa97…
Before one week, or we sell her for donor body.
=============
The attached files were two hi-res 3D photos of my kid sister Emily lying on a bed. Looking at them made me want to puke while I killed somebody. She wasn’t tied up. She wasn’t naked and dirty. She was the opposite.
She looked serene.
Like she was taking a nap.
I immediately dialed her phone. While it rang, I imagined our conversation:
“Hey, Logan!” There would be a smile in her voice. “You checking up on me?”
I’d chuckle guiltily and say, “Who, me?”
“You’re such an over-protective big brother,” she’d giggle. “So, what’s up? You just call to say hello?”