by Troy Neenan
On the other side of the screen was the same man but he was looking at his broken arm and the pansy appeared to be crying. There was the same puff of smoke and his arm appeared to be fixed. Above his head were the words Repair.
Having a good idea what the repair add-on did, David selected it.
Instead of the usual circuit board set up that had been the bane of the Dungeon Core's existence, this time he was looking at a blackboard with a diagram of his naked body on it. The diagram looked to have been made by a toddler with a piece of chalk; to David's further dismay the diagram was also anatomically correct.
Ignoring in inadequacies, he concentrated on the diagram's face and hands. Not sure what to do, David clicked on his right hand.
The black board image was scrubbed out by an invisible duster and in its place were four copies of his right hand. One showed the hand itself, another showed a skeleton hand, the third showed a spider web of squiggly lines that took the shape of a hand, and the fourth one looked like the hand was glowing.
The first two diagrams David could understand. The skeletal hand was meant to be an x-ray of his bones, the squiggly lines depicting his nervous system, both of which were complete messes. The fourth one, however, was a mystery. Was it some kind of aura? A magical shield? David hadn't a clue.
To the right of the board were various items including human remains and bug corpses. There was also what looked to be a familiar looking jeep.
David's eyes went wide, “The Beast.”
Dungeons are all unique, but some are more unique than others. Their characteristics materialise at birth and are polished as they grow and develop, building around the world that they inhabit. At the earliest stage of development you caught several creatures with abnormal abilities that go against your realm's natural laws. Unable to digest characteristics into usable energy, your dungeon instead absorbed them into its structure. What this means for you, only time will tell.
You have unlocked the ability. Remote storage.
You have absorbed the extra-dimensional properties of a creature in your earliest stage. This ability has given you an inbuilt pocket dimension known as a bag of holding. Your dungeon can use this space to store items and use them later. As a dungeon master, you are able to access this space outside of your domain.
“Sweet!” David screamed. A bag of holding was one of the coolest items in role-playing games; they allowed your character to store unbelievable amounts of treasure without being over encumbered.
David looked to the board and he tapped the broken skeletal hand. It gave him a list of items that he had to fix the problem.
Fortunately, depending on how you looked at it, his dungeon had gotten its hands on some human remains. He just hoped that the bodies belonged to a bunch of backpackers and not somebody who would be missed.
There was a surge of energy as David selected the human remains. A few selections latter and there was a puff of cheesy effect smoke. It was a nice touch but a computer animated movie where all the bones meld and fused together would have been more modern.
In the real world, David opened his eyes.
Over by her bed, Cassidy was telling Judith about how the complicated relationship between the actors in a soap opera that they were watching. The fact that she knew the ludicrously elaborate nature of how Sally, the show's heroine was cheating on her fiancé was a clear sign that she had been stuck in hospital for far too long.
Raising his right hand, David had to choke back a whoop of joy. The appendage had been completely restored. There were no burn scars, no deformities; there wasn't even stiffness to them.
A look at the TV showed that only thirty minutes had passed. As he hadn't spent that much time in Forge, that meant either he blacked out to fix his hand, or that time moved at a different pace inside the repair system. Either way, he was doing it again.
The Dungeon Core closed his eyes.
He fixed everything, or at least he attempted to. He started with his more important parts, namely his arms and then his back. He systematically went through his most serious wounds which enfeebled his movement. He swore that those jackasses in the crack house were using him like a trampoline, because his ribs had several fractures. As David turned his attention to his eyes and face problems started to occur.
His earlier attempt to fix his eye had resulted in a modification. His eyes were now sixty percent plastic and metal. How he was able to see out of it at all didn't make sense, but then what did anymore? David would need to either rip his eye out and replace it, or modify it further.
Progress stopped suddenly as David's source of materials quickly became used up. Frustrated he searched through the dungeon's storage bin, looking for anything that could be useful. Textiles, a face mask, cow leather. Anything that he could reforge into human skin and muscle. What he did find were magical jewellery and two dozen gold coins. It looked as if his dungeon had started its first hoard.
Unable to do anything else at the moment and not daring to use the modifications, the Dungeon core returned to the world. Taking a careful look around, he got out of bed only to be cut off by Judith. The little girl was in her wheelchair and from the noxious odour emanating from her; the Variant had defecated in her pants. She stared at him unbothered by the reek which was filling both their nostrils.
David held his heart, the shock of seeing the puny killer was enough to almost give him a stroke. Wait. Could he have a stroke?
Not wanting to piss off the evil little girl who had a very impressive body count for being only a few hours old, David asked her polity, “Do you want to go to the toilet?”
Instead of answering the mutant just stared at him.
“Let's go get you cleaned up.”
On patrol, a nearby nurse took one look at David and held back a shocked scream. It was a reaction that he was growing used to but would hopefully no longer be a problem in a few hours. Dealing with other people's shit all day, you would think that these women would be a bit more hardened.
“Hi, my daughter had an accident. Could you help with...?” David gestured to Judith who looked at her creator with a raised eyebrow.
The nurse bent down and looked at the little girl, her smile was as fake as David's ID but she at least attempted to act polite, “Hello. Aren't you a cutie?”
The homicidal spawn of a crackhead and a death trap gave David a look that said, “Do you want me to kill her?”
“Be nice,” David warned before walking in the direction of the staircase. It was difficult to get around the hospital with the camera watching him, especially in the restricted areas. But during his assessment of the hospital's security he had found that the storage bin for the hospital's medical waste was lax.
As he walked he flexed the digits and smiled. A thought crossed the Dungeon Core and he snapped his fingers, speaking the word “Gold.” A single gold coin materialised in his hand. The mint was alien but there was no mistaking the yellowish metal. A smile spread itself across the Dungeon Core's face and he flipped the coin in the air only to catch it as it came down.
Maybe there was something to this Dungeon stuff.
Chapter Fifteen
One moment, Cassidy was back in high school, redoing a test in her underwear, the next she was in a hospital bed feeling several kinds of pain all across her body. The morphine must have run out, again.
This was getting old. Cassidy felt that she was getting dependent on the drugs. She was unable to get to sleep without them and with them her mind felt lazy and dull. Every day that she was in this bed was another that she was getting closer to becoming the thing that she feared the most, turning into her grandmother.
Not that her gran was a bad person. Cassidy had fond memories of the old bitty, except now those memories seemed so far away. Now, all that she could recall of her doting grandmother were the wheezing sounds that filled her bedroom as the machines kept her alive.
Getting bored out of her skull already, she went to flip the TV on, thinking that so
me infomercial would be more effective than pumping herself with whatever they had hooked up to her. That was when Cassidy noticed that somebody was watching her.
The figure that loomed over her hospital bed stared at her as if pondering doing something that he himself found untasteful.
The fear of being raped and murdered caused the pre-law student to push herself against her head board, her bandaged arms holding her pillow as if it were a bat. “What are you…?”
“Easy.” The stranger hushed. “Cassidy, I've got a…” the man chose his next words carefully, “A job for you.”
Her turquoise eyes moved to the exit, calculating the odds that a nurse would choose that moment to poke her head in and see what's happening. Her instincts told her to run, but her body told her that it was in no condition to do anything but lay there. Cassidy decided to keep this prick talking while she planned her escape. “And you are?”
There was a flash of confusion before the man seemed to have figured something out. “Oh, right.” He pointed at David's empty bed, “Your roommate, David.”
Cassidy would have raised an eyebrow if she had any. The day that Cassidy had met her quiet roommate was one of her few good days. Not because of the company. David was about as talkative as a salt shaker. It was because compared to that poor bastard, she felt like a beauty queen. Skeletor had a better complexion than David had.
She looked closer at the man, her eyes growing used to the light. The guy was dressed in khakis and a polo shirt. As if to add insult to injury he also wore hospital slippers. Cassidy was tempted to call the police for crimes against fashion. This guy was also two sizes slimmer than David.
“You’re David?” Cassidy said not bothering to hide her scepticism.
The man, who was obviously not her roommate, rubbed his eyes. Now that Cassidy could see him clearly there was something not quite right about his left eye, it looked... odd for some reason.
“Cassidy. Trust me. It's better if you don't think about it. You want a job or not?”
Job? Cassidy wasn't in any state to do anything more strenuous but feel sorry for herself. “And what will you do if you don't like the answer?”
He laughed, “I'm not going to kill you. I…” the man who was not David hesitated. Instead, he grinned maliciously. “I'm going to do something worse. You tell me “no” and I'll leave. I'll go out of this hospital and you'll never see me again.”
“I fail to see how this is a threat,”
“It's simple. You Cassidy, are broke. You have thousands of dollars of school bills. You get out of here and you'll be lucky to find a vacant cardboard box to live in. The only way that you are going to get laid is with a blind man or people who like your fantastic personality.”
“Hey, fuck you. And what's wrong with my personality? I'm charming.”
“I'm getting bored, Crispy. You want a job or not?”
The crispy remark stung. Cassidy spent a moment eyeing the stranger, her focus still drawn to that weird eye of his. She wanted to argue against the monster’s words but sadly, she knew that his harsh comments were true enough. The personality part she would take to court about, her career and lifestyle however, was a different subject. The bastard knew exactly which button to push.
“What job?” Cassidy said.
“Simple. I need a gopher… And a lawyer,” he said.
Cassidy was getting tired. She slipped back into bed and let out a groan. “First of all, I'm a student. Not even that. I've missed too many classes. I'll have to do the semesters over again. Next,” gestured to the many bandages that wrapped around her. She was in no state to go to the toilet by herself, let alone run errands.
The man moved to Cassidy’s side. She shifted away but knew that she couldn't do much if he decided to attack her. Acting far too creepy, he spoke softly, “What if I sweetened the deal? For today only, as a signing bonus. I can offer you the best cosmetic surgery in the world. Like fantasy level good. Completely free.”
Desperation intertwined with every warning buzzer in Cassidy’s head. There was no way possible that a student could get cosmetic surgery. She would be lucky enough to afford a paper bag to fit over her head.
“Plastic surgery?” Cassidy enquired, playing along. She was starting to suspect that this guy might not be taking his prescribed medication.
The man rubbed his left eye and Cassidy realised what was wrong with it. Instead of a regular eyeball, this joker's left eye was made out of what looked like clear plastic. His pupil was a polished steel ball with silvery veins running along the surface of the ball and into the ball itself. A wave of disgust hit the pre-law student like a freight train, she could see right into the jackoff’s gooey innards.
“Kind of,” he said. “I can give you a demonstration. I have an unbelievable before and after show.”
Cassidy contemplated the offer. She knew that she was probably going to get royally screwed, but it wasn't as if she had any other offers. This guy was so creepy that he broke the metre. But she was desperate enough to hear a sales pitch. “You've got five minutes.”
“You see, I need thirty. Judith. Hold her.”
Before she could ask what he meant by that, Judith dropped down from the ceiling. The girl hopped right into Cassidy’s bed and what appeared to be a piece of bone slowly burst from the skin of her palms. The tips of which were rubbing against the pre-law student's neck.
Daring not to scream, Cassidy wisely chose to be still. The machine that she was hooked up to beeped loudly, telling the woman to calm down before she suffered a stroke. Cassidy felt her heart thrash against her ribs as this pervert placed his fingers on her forehead.
“Don't move,” he suggested with emphasis.
Laying there and trying hard not to scream, Cassidy felt something. It started off as an itch but slowly grew until it felt as if tiny ants or spiders were crawling along what remained of her forehead. An itch, like a deep irritating mosquito bite, spread from the five points of the man's fingers.
Cassidy squirmed uncomfortably as the itching and the crawling sensations spread out across her nose and cheeks. “Stop it,” she pleaded. “Ahh.” Cassidy closed her eyes as a cramp formed around her jawline. The feeling of muscle seizing up caused a tear to run down Cassidy’s cheeks. She wanted to call out but the cramps hindered her. She swore that there was a nest of baby spider’s tap dancing on her ears.
For thirty minutes Cassidy lay there, unable to scream for fear that the psychopathic kid who had her arms around her would kill her. The itching grew so intense that the fear of death was a faraway thought. Pain she could handle, but this was something else.
Cassidy tried to break the man's hold on her, “Stop, please.” The pre-law student tried to physically break free but the man's grip was strong.
After thirty minutes of feeling helplessness, the son of a bitch withdrew his hand and pulled away to admire his work. Judith did the same, getting off of Cassidy's bed and moving to the stranger's side.
Unable to take it anymore, Cassidy scratched at her face. “What did you do to me, you sick bastard?” He must have removed her bandages because Cassidy couldn't feel them, she scratched and scratched, using the bandages on her arms as rasps. Her face still itching she peeled back her lips and sneered at the bastard who had... Well, she didn't know what the son of a bitch had done but it hadn't been enjoyable.
Profanities flew out of Cassidy. She threw every curse that she could at her torturer and all he did was stare at her, his head cocking to one side as if taking in a painting and deciding if he liked it.
Eventually, Cassidy's moans of hatred earned her the attention of one of the nurses.
“What's going on here?” the nurse looked to the man, “Who are you?” her attention drifted to her patient, “Are you allllll...” the attending nurse trailed off and her mouth hung open as she looked at Cassidy's face.
Seeing the shock on the nurse's face, Cassidy held her face, “What? What did he do to me?” She didn't want to be even mor
e deformed.
The man who could not be David looked to the nurse, “Could you get her a mirror? Cassidy, I gotta go out for a bit. I'll be back at around about... eleven. I'll let you think about the job.” he turned towards the exit, “See ya soon.”
He walked towards the exit. Judith trailed behind him, her walking somewhat awkward.
Cassidy didn't bother to give him a wave goodbye. With no mirror handy, she was forced to do something drastic. She reached for her mobile phone. Her hands, still bound in several layers of bandages proved to be a worthy opponent, but Cassidy eventually managed to take a selfie.
She looked at the screen, afraid and needing to know what the madman had done to her. She stared at the panicked woman in the small screen and froze. She was so focused on the screen that she failed to notice that several other nurses barged into the room, demanding to see what was happening.
Fearing that it was some trick of the light, Cassidy paid attention to her camera, moving it this way and that, trying to disprove what it was that she was seeing.
The person that she was looking at had a narrow face which had the complexion of a bright red tomato. The woman on the phone was bald, with no eyebrows or nose hair present and her lips were cracked. Cassidy touched her cheeks and instead of blisters and scarred flesh there was only softness.
Cassidy may have looked like she had gotten the worst sunburn of her life and she was completely hairless, but it was her. Using the camera as a mirror she discovered that it was only her head that was restored, everything below her neckline was still horribly disfigured.
“Fuck me,” she said in awe.
***
David returned to the scene of the crime.
It was almost morning and from the look of things neither the junkies, nor anyone in the neighbourhood had bothered to call the police.
The Dungeon Core looked to his side and saw Judith there. The little monster gave no sign of what she was thinking; she continued to stand there with a blank expression.
When he could, David had called the police about the van, using one of the hospital's phones. He was still unsure about it being a good thing or not, but he wasn't the type to just let things go. He didn't know if he was still human or not and honestly didn't care either way. That van had a serious child abductor vibe to it.