The SciFi Triple Pack

by Adam Drake

  Carefully, I approached the edge of the wall, keeping my body pressed against it, then slowly peeked.

  The path led into a wider area, another clearing. Two men where here, sitting on the ground, facing each other. A woman lay between them. She was on her stomach, her face turned toward me. For a brief moment I feared she would spot me and raise an alarm. But her eyes told me that wouldn't happen. She was dead.

  “Ain't respectful, that's all I say,” one man said, his voice echoing off the rocky walls. He was bald headed and naked, save for a loincloth.

  “Respect has nothing to do with it,” the other man said. He was nearly naked, too, only his bald scalp was crested by a thin hedge of hair forming a mohawk. “If it ain't tradable, it ain't tradable. Them's the rules.”

  Neither looked in my direction, lost in their conversation. But it wasn't what they were saying which held my interest, it was their skin.

  Every inch of their bodies was covered in a flaky black soot, as if their flesh had been scorched in a fire. It looked incredibly painful, yet neither seemed to mind. Instead, they focused on what they were doing.

  The first man shrugged. “Well, I now them's the rules. Don't mean I have to like it. I can't be hauling goods all the way to the trader only to be told my hard gotten gains ain't worth a dead slave's ass. Just frustrating, is all.” He raised something to his mouth and bit into it, gnashing it with yellowed teeth.

  “Well, you may not have been able to trade for proper food, but at least we found this one to eat,” Mohawk said, chuckling. He bit into something, too.

  I then realized what they were doing – they were eating the woman.

  I nearly retched in revulsion as the two dined with gusto, tearing at the slabs of raw pink flesh in their hands. These were the two I was expected to kill?

  Little information markers sprung up above their heads, both identical.

  Burned Man

  Health: 100%

  Magic: 100%

  Bound to the Molten God

  The woman had one too which simply said Corpse of Slave.

  Okay, this was it then, I thought as the two enjoyed their meal. But how was I expected to fight them, let alone kill them? Looking around for a weapon of some kind, I found a fist sized rock and picked it up.

  Hefting it in my hand, I glared at the men. Now what? Throw it? It was possible I could hit one, but it might not be enough. I'd never been in a fight before in my life. Not even in school. Sure, I grappled during the physical training at the academy, but that was mostly for exercise.

  I had no fighting experience of any kind. And I could only guess as to how to actually kill someone. Doubt crept into the back of my mind and I hesitated.

  Mohawk took a big swallow. “Well, this beats skagg meat any day, if you know what I mean?”

  The other laughed, bits of flesh spraying from his mouth. “Ha! Ain't that the truth of it. Expect us to scurry around here in the chasm on a fool's errand without a proper meal, then we'll eat any slave we find. Traders be damned!”

  Both men laughed. My gaze fell upon the poor dead woman, naked with wide red strips cut from her back. I felt angry.

  I might not have any experience fighting, but I did have something. The element of surprise.

  Waiting until they both hunched over to take another bite, I quickly rounded the corner and launched myself across the clearing. The slapping of my feet on the ground betrayed my attempt to keep silent and I feared they'd hear me before I reached them.

  Turned out, luck was on my side.

  I sprinted across the short distance to where they sat so fast, they didn't notice me until I was on top of them.

  Baldy saw me first, turning his head toward me, mouth full of flesh.

  With my running momentum unchecked, I swung the rock in my hand and cracked it across the back of his skull. A grim, yet satisfying crunch let me know I'd hit home.

  You hit the Burned Man for 10 health points of blunt damage!

  Baldy keeled over onto his side, screaming in pain, no longer interested in his snack.

  Mohawk scrambled to his feet, wide-eyed in surprise. Hanging from his waist was what appeared to be a club of some kind. He dropped the woman's cut flesh and grabbed the club, shaking it menacingly.

  We stood facing one another, my bloody rock held over my shoulder, his club several inches from my face.

  The shock wearing off, Mohawk glanced down at his friend who was convulsing on the ground. Then he looked me over, sizing me up.

  My heart thudded in my chest. Why couldn't I just attack him while I still had the advantage? Fighting wasn't natural to me, like a strange alien dance. Had I been more skilled in its nuances, I would have jumped on him. But I hesitated.

  Mohawk met my gaze, and said, “I know what you are.”

  “Don't you dare call me a bitch,” I said.

  “A berserker.” His voice had an edge of reverence to it, almost awe.

  I couldn't hold back any longer, and leapt forward. Lacking anything to block the club, I tried to grab onto it with my free hand while striking down with the rock.

  But Mohawk's momentary paralysis evaporated the second I moved, and quickly stepped back out of reach. As I swung downward with the rock, he pulled the club to one side and hit me in the face with it.

  You have been hit for 4 health points of blunt damage!

  Stars danced across my vision, and my knees buckled. As I staggered, Mohawk shouted with glee and brought the club down on my back. Somehow, I pulled away and the club only glanced off my shoulder. The downward force of the blow still dropped me to one knee, and for a moment I couldn't breath.

  You have been hit for 5 health points of blunt damage!

  Mohawk stood over me and snickered. “Dumb bitch. Dumb, stupid bitch berserker. I thought your kind were dangerous. Guess not, huh?”

  I tried to speak, but couldn't. Was my jaw broken?

  He reveled in the moment. “Never had a berserker before. Think I'll finally get to enjoy one after all. Once one way, then another. Fun then feast.”

  My double vision faded and I turned my head to look up at him.

  He said, “Yeah, you know what's coming. Just like this slave did. Only I'm going to take my time with you. Gods be damned, you look good enough to eat!” He raised the club high over his head with both hands.

  When I first sprinted into the clearing I'd completely forgotten about my new ability. In my haste to get away from Chak I barely gave it any thought.

  Now I did.

  As Mohawk raised the club, a shout of victory on his lips, I gripped the rock with both hands and drove it into his groin with all my strength.

  Use Bash Ability.

  It was like punching through a bag of laundry. I felt my hands crush his gut and hit the pelvis bone on the other side.

  Mohawk's victory shout came out a hoarse gasp as his innards ruptured.

  I was only partially aware that a small timer appeared at the corner of my vision, but I ignored it. As Mohawk crumpled to the ground, I brought the rock down against his temple. Another satisfying crunch. This was accompanied by a mewling noise from Mohawk's mouth, so I brought the rock down, again, to shut him up. It worked. I hit him, again and again.

  “Fun then feast!” I screeched at the top of my lungs, punctuating the words with the rock. “Fun then feast!”

  I only stopped once I realized there was no longer a face to scream at. Tired, I slid off the dead man's corpse, panting. My face hurt terribly and my left shoulder was completely numb. I coughed up some blood. Had I fractured a rib and punctured a lung? He hit me hard enough.

  As I sat slouched over, contemplating my pains, Baldy moaned.

  Damn. And here I thought I was done.

  I noticed my rock was missing. Looking around I couldn't find where I'd dropped it. My eyes snagged on the club which Mohawk still held in his death grip. His hand was twitching slightly, as if to the beat of some far off music.

  Baldy moaned again, this ti
me moving a little, as if coming to.

  I grabbed the club by the handle and wrestled it out of the dead man's grip.

  You have taken an item: Simple Bone Club

  Durability: Usable

  Damage: 1-6

  Tradable

  I ignored the message and moved to Baldy, stumbling a little. That hit to the face really did a number on me.

  Baldy had pulled himself up to his knees, a piece of brain poking out of the collapsed hole at the back of his head. He swayed back and forth, ready to fall over.

  Raising the club up, I paused long enough to say, “Fun then feast!”

  Baldy launched into me. His attack was so sudden, the club was wrenched from my grasp.

  I landed hard on my back and cracked my head on the ground. Somewhere I heard someone gurgling, then realized it was me. Baldy was laying on top of me, hands around my throat. The burned flesh of his face contorted with rage, our noses touching.

  I struggled to push him off, but he was too strong and heavy. My hands batted at his sides, fingernails tearing at his flesh, but nothing altered the intensity of his attack. I couldn't breathe. I was going to die. Again.

  My right hand found something, fist-sized and hard. With a choking grunt, I swung the rock at his head. He must have sensed the movement because he turned to look, allowing the rock to hit his left eye. The impact smashed it like a grape and his head titled back letting me shove him off.

  On his back, clutching at his face, he wailed and whimpered in pain.

  Quickly I straddled his chest, pinning him down. I brought the rock down on his head, again and again, but this time too tired to chant.

  After he finally went still, I slid off of him.

  A message appeared.

  Quest completed: First Kill

  You have slain both Burned Men. Return to Chak for your next task.

  Reward: 200 Blood Points

  Doubled over on the ground, I coughed and wretched, trying to regain the ability to breathe again. It took several long minutes before I could roll on my back and stare up at the streaming carpet of clouds.

  By the stars, I hurt! But I'd done it. I killed two men.

  I have no idea how long I lay there, but it was long enough for me to start to doze, the numbing pain over my body acting like a warm blanket. A sudden noise pulled me from the brink of sleep, and I struggled to raise myself up on my elbows.

  Worried the dead men might have some more surprises, I looked them over. They were still. Just as dead as the poor slave girl. She looked so young.

  That noise again, this time coming from beyond the rocky wall to my left. A hiss followed by scraping. Suddenly, two yellowish eyes appeared within the murk above the wall. Something was climbing over it.

  Scaled claws gripped the top edge of the wall, and a long serpent-like tongue slithered out of the darkness beneath the eyes to caress the air.

  I didn't need any more coaxing. Grunting with effort, I pulled myself up the closest wall to my feet. Tearing my gaze away from the monstrous thing sliding down into the clearing at the other side, I barely had the presence of mind to scoop up the club.

  Then, without a look back, I half-staggered, half-fell into the pathway I'd entered from. As I rounded the bend and careened off a wall, I hurried away. All the while trying to ignore the wet sound of something feasting behind me.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I stumbled along the path, using the rock walls to keep me upright and moving. Each time I coughed, the blood I spat out became thicker.

  That was not what I had expected for a fight. Short and brutal. But I'd won, miraculously.

  Several messages sat unread in the message box at the corner of my vision. I'd been too busy fighting for my life to notice them.

  You have slain a Burned Man. You have gained 150 Blood Points. Spend them wisely.

  You have slain a Burned Man. You have gained 150 Blood Points. Spend them wisely.

  Bash cooldown has expired. Ability available.

  The last message must have coincided with the little timer I saw after punching Mohawk through the guts. Glancing at the ability's description showed the timer was for two minutes. I'd just learned that two minutes is a long time to wait when in combat.

  I examined the club in my hand. It was certainly of bone, but oddly shaped. As if smaller bones had been fused together and molded in a more ergonomic and lethal shape. A tiny fleck of blood on its heavier end blemished its eggshell color. My blood.

  Finally, I reached the end of the path and the gateway beyond. But a savage coughing fit sent me to my knees. It was then I noticed a thin red bar along the right side of my vision. Health 8%.

  Wonderful.

  Movement caught my eye, and for a moment, I feared the thing back at the clearing at somehow cut me off. But it was Chak, emerging through the gate.

  “Ah, she has returned. Successful, I hope?” he said. He stood a short distance away, staff in hand.

  “Yup,” I said, blood frothing at my lips with the word. “If nearly getting beaten to death counts as success.”

  This made Chak laugh, boisterously. “Ha! And a sense of humor, too, even through all that pain. Did you forget what I told you? Blood and pain. Embrace them. It will make your journey easier.”

  “If you say so,” I said, and slumped against the rock wall. The movement made me scream in pain, and I clutched at my side.

  “Internal injuries,” Chak said, making a tsk-tsk noise. “Those are the worst. And to think, this is but a small taste of the exquisite banquet of agony you will dine upon in the future.”

  Wow, he really knew how to make it sound appealing. “Can I get a little help here?” I was pretty certain I was bleeding internally. My Health bar suddenly dropped to 5%.

  “Help? Why, yes I could help you.” He stood immobile, grinning that oily grin.

  What did he want me to do? “Please?” More frothy blood, this time through my nose.

  “Come to me,” he said, watching intently.

  For a second I thought he might be joking, but his expression told otherwise.

  The pain was blinding. “But I...”

  “Crawl,” he said. “Bitch.”

  I wanted to tell him off. I wanted to scream at him. Tell him never to call me that again. But I didn't.

  I crawled. Using my one good arm, I dragged myself across the ground, the rock beneath scraping my skin.

  Health 3%.

  Chak waited.

  What was this guy's problem? I pulled myself along, until I collapsed at his feet and rolled onto my back.

  Health 2%.

  Staring down at me, Chak said, “Never forget who I am. Your disciplinarian, your guide...”

  Health 1%.

  A familiar whiteness played around the edges of my vision. Here we go again, I thought through the painful haze.

  Chak leaned down and painfully grabbed one of my breasts. “And your savior!”

  Suddenly, my pain began to subside. Little by little it faded. Messages were scrolling up in the corner.

  Chak has healed you for 5 Health Points.

  Chak has healed you for 5 Health Points.

  I felt the odd sensation of my ribs snapping into place, my lung becoming whole and drained of blood. My jaw reset itself, and the numbness in my shoulder vanished.

  It took roughly a minute, after which I felt incredible and my health bar showed it. Health 100%.

  By the stars, that felt great!

  I realized I was still on my back, looking up at the sweaty fat man holding my breast. Not certain what to say, I sat up. As I did, Chak gave one last painful squeeze and let go.

  As I stood, he glared at me, as if daring me to say something. I didn't.

  At least, not now.

  “Thank you,” I forced myself to say.

  “I am not the one to thank. The Blood God is the one whom you owe all your gratitude.”

  “Okay,” I said, not sure how to follow that up. I looked over my naked form. It was s
till crusted with the blood from the pool, but also my own, and the men I'd killed. But other than that, I was whole again. “That's a good trick. How did you do it?” And how can I do it, too?

  Chak snorted. “You are jumping ahead. We were going to cover Marks a little later. But since you brought it up.” He pulled back one of the flaps of his odd vest, exposing his sagging left bicep. He had far bigger breasts than me.

  Across his collarbone and over his shoulder was a tattoo. It was archaic, with odd symbols and images of which I couldn't identify.

  “A tattoo?” I said, hoping he'd just cover himself up.

  “A Mark,” he said. “Look at it.”

  I focused on the tattoo and, suddenly, an information screen appeared next to it.

  Mark of Healing

  This Mark grants the wearer the ability to recover health points for themselves, or others via touch.

  Maximum 5 health points every 5 seconds.

  Cost: 10 Blood Points per health point.

  “Whoa,” I said. “That is a nice trick. Where can I buy one of those?”

  “You do not buy Marks,” Chak said, covering it again. “You earn them in battle. But we will get to that soon enough.” He waved to the gate. “Come.”

  I followed him back into the little clearing.

  Chak said, “Tell me, how many Blood Points do you have?”

  “I dunno,” I blurted without thinking. When he scowled I said, “Really, I don't. I got a bunch when I killed those two.”

  “Check your statistics,” Chak drawled, annoyed.

  “How do I...” I started to say when it appeared before me. Apparently, I just needed to think of it.

  Blood Points: 500

  Chak said, “Now, look at your level.”

  “One,” I said. Then I noticed the words next to it. 500 Blood Points for Level 2.

  “You now have the points required to purchase your next level,” Chak said, “if you wanted to.”

  “Don't I want to?”

  Chak held up a chubby finger. “Blood Points are gained by slaying opponents. Although legion, the enemies of the Blood God may not give you many points, so you must hoard them and spend them wisely.”