Arcane Kingdom Online: The Chosen (A LitRPG Adventure, Book 1)

by Jakob Tanner

  ARCANE KINGDOM ONLINE

  BOOK ONE: THE CHOSEN

  JAKOB TANNER

  Copyright © 2018 by Jakob Tanner

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  AKO Book Two

  Author’s Note

  Join the LitRPG Group on Facebook

  Join the GameLit Society for more GameLit and LitRPG

  Dedicated:

  To my mom and dad, who have encouraged and supported me in everything that I’ve done.

  Special Thanks to:

  Richard Sashigane for the awesome cover art.

  Joseph Gisini for help with the cover typography and design.

  Andrew Smith for sage advice.

  All my family and friends.

  Thanks to my beta readers and their amazing feedback:

  Ailsa Bristow

  Ezben Gerardo

  Zach Goza

  Jennifer Haviland

  Jo Hoffacker

  Ben Warren

  This book wouldn’t be what it is today without you guys!

  1

  It wasn’t easy waiting to see if you’d live or die.

  It was why the old man at the front of the line took his sweet precious time. He waddled forward, lifting his cane then placing it down again. Step by step. The echo of the cane on the terminal floor was like the ticking of a clock, each excruciating beat bringing me one second closer to my turn. My dance with fate.

  The soldier managing the line barked through the air purifier tusks of his gas mask: “Hurry up or I’ll throw you into quarantine.”

  The man stopped dawdling and stepped into the bioscan. He slouched his shoulders and muttered a quiet prayer to himself. A few seconds passed and a green light appeared above the machine, followed by a single shrill beep.

  The passenger was free to go. The old man hurried away towards baggage claim.

  The armed soldier yelled, “Next!” and the line shuffled forward.

  Four people stood ahead of me. Four more turns until my own.

  A little boy in front of me tugged at his mother’s arm.

  “I don’t want to go through there mommy,” he said. “Please.”

  The woman’s face was pale and she had bags under her eyes. She gripped her son’s hand tightly and said, “Shh. It will be over soon.”

  But the little boy was far from comforted: tears forming in his eyes.

  I crouched down and smiled at the kid. “Why are you crying little guy?”

  The boy sniffled and wiped his eyes. “Cause… I don’t want to walk in there…”

  “It’s scary, huh?”

  He nodded.

  “But think about this: you had to go through the same scan before you got on the plane, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah…”

  “And you must’ve been cleared—healthy as ever—otherwise you wouldn’t have been allowed to even get on the plane, right?”

  The boy nodded his head again.

  “So do you really think you would’ve gotten sick between now and the last scan?”

  “I don’t know,” said the kid.

  “Well, did you eat the veggie option?”

  The boy shook his head emphatically. Of course not.

  I smiled at him. “Then you’re fine.”

  The kid laughed, vindicated for his dislike of vegetables.

  “You’re almost through,” I said, “Don’t worry.”

  I stood back up and the woman smiled at me. “Your mother must be so proud of you.”

  I shrugged awkwardly, not wanting to disappoint her with the truth.

  The guard ended our conversation abruptly, yelling, “Next!”

  The woman bent down and kissed her son on the forehead. “Wait here and join me on the other side in a minute.”

  The woman walked through the two metal walls of the bioscan. The device scanned her body, searching for any signs of the virus. The machine buzzed and a green light flashed. The woman stepped forth onto the other side.

  “Your turn buddy,” I said to the kid.

  He took a few hesitant steps before rushing between the detector’s walls. As the scan commenced, the boy shivered. His whole body trembled. It was horrible to watch. The shrill beep went off and the green light flashed.

  The boy ran to his mother, jumping into her arms. They hugged and kissed before grabbing their things and hurrying towards the exit. They had made it. They were free to enter the country. The boy turned around, smiled at me, and waved.

  “Next!”

  I stepped forward, passing between the two armed guards, and entered the scanner. The process was no different from going through a metal detector. The only thing you felt were your nerves. I stood there as the machine scanned my body for bacteria and deadly cells. I closed my eyes and counted the seconds. There was nothing to be worried about. Just as I had told the kid: I’d gone through the exact same scan only a few hours ago. Nothing had changed.

  I waited for the beep. Silence. I lifted my head to see if a green light flashed. Nothing. I turned around to get confirmation from one of the guards. Instead I found an assault rifle pointed at my chest.

  “Stay right where you are,” said the guard from behind his gas mask. He had a rough voice with a slight country twang. “Don’t move.”

  “What’s going on?” I said. “This must be a mistake.”

  I whipped round and another guard was already there, semi-automatic ready in hand to blow my brains out.

  “If you do not calm down, we’ll be forced by law to subdue you.”

  I didn’t move. I didn’t open my mouth. Anything I did would be taken as a threat from these guys. All I wanted to do was elbow them in the face and run for it. But somehow I knew if I did, I would be begging them to shoot me.

  The soldiers kept my head in their crosshairs. Army boots smacked against the floor, getting louder and louder. Security had sent out reinforcements.

  Two new armed guards took position in front of the bioscan and started processing people.

  The guard at my back patted me down and confiscated my phone, wallet, and passport.

  “Hey! I need those—“

  “Not where you’re going,” muttered the guard, patting me down.

  Once finished, the other soldier said, “Follow me.”

  He spun around and marched forward. I stood still, frozen with fear. Paralyzed. What was about to happen? The guard behind
dug the barrel of his gun deep into my skin. A sharp pain ripped across my back.

  “Move it.”

  I caught up with the marching guard while the other one followed behind, making sure I didn’t run for it. We entered a back stairwell and headed down the steps. A cold draft swept through. My teeth shivered and my shoulders shook. At the bottom was an open door, leading to the tarmac.

  Waiting for us there amongst the airplanes and runways was a green army van, engine running. The guard opened the back door and climbed in. Behind me, the soldier kicked my back with his boot, knocking me into the van.

  “What the hell?”

  “Shut up,” said the soldier, climbing in after me and shutting the door. He signaled the driver, “Take us to the quarantine facility.”

  I got up off the van’s floor and sat down in the corner seat. “What are you guys planning to do to me? What exactly have I done?”

  The guard who wasn’t a complete dickhead turned to me and lifted his gloved hands to his head. He fiddled with his gas mask and pulled it off. The man behind the mask had a boxy head with a square jaw. He had a standard army buzz cut and blue stoic eyes. He blinked and a string of numbers and code fell along the side of his right eye. No wonder this guy didn’t give a shit. He was an android.

  “Passenger 1307-b,” he said. “Clay Hopewell, aged twenty-four years old, citizen of United North America. Arriving from Charles de Gaulle airport, Paris, France. Flight number: 248. You’ve been put under immediate arrest for breaking international law by the decree of—”

  “Breaking the law! How so?”

  “Isn’t it obvious, dumbass?” said the jerk guard, who kept his gas mask firmly on his head. “You got ZERO. You’re a ticking time bomb now bud. I’m sure those French fucks are real happy with themselves for kicking out all the foreigners.”

  My arms shook, my shoulders shuddered. If what they said was true: I only had a few days to live.

  “I was fine a few hours ago,” I said. “How is this even possible?”

  “You’re asking the million-dollar question,” said the guard.

  We drove along an empty runway towards a large airplane hangar. Surrounding the perimeter of the building was a scaffolding of barbed wire, armed guards, sentry towers, and machine gun turrets. We slowed down at a parking gate. The driver poked his head out and spoke with another masked soldier. They exchanged a few words and then the barrier lifted. We drove on towards the hangar.

  The army vehicle halted beneath the shadows of the large building.

  “We’re at your stop,” said the jerk guard. “C’mon—out ya get.”

  He grabbed my jacket collar and dragged me out of the van. All the turrets from the different sentry towers pointed down at my section of the tarmac.

  The guard led me over to a small shed-like building attached to the hangar. He punched in key commands and a metal door slid open.

  “You enter the quarantine zone through here,” said the guard. “We’ll lock the door behind you.”

  “Is there a phone in there? How will my family be alerted of my whereabouts?”

  The guard shook his head. “Don’t worry. That’s all been taken care of.”

  I clenched my fists and swallowed my anger. I brushed past him, heading into the quarantine zone.

  “Okay,” said the guard. “We’ll open the next door after we’ve sealed this first one. If you don’t enter the hangar, we’ll come in there and exterminate you.”

  He punched in the key commands again and the door slid closed, sealing me off from the outside.

  The room was a cold concrete square. A metal door slid open, granting me entrance into the airport hangar. The open doorway revealed a pitch black room. The darkness was impenetrable. A stench wafted out from the hangar’s entrance. It was like a mixture of rotten meat and shit combined. The smell made me not want to go any further. The guard’s voice cut through my thoughts: we’ll exterminate you. I lifted my t-shirt above my nose and stepped into the room.

  The metal door slid closed behind me. The lights above flickered on and the sight was unbelievable. Horrible. This was the quarantine facility?

  The floor was a sea of corpses. A few wrangled on the ground in their own vomit, moaning, but the majority of them were dead. In the furthest corner across the hangar was a heap of bodies, the mound like a pile of garbage at a scrapyard. Instead of rubber bags and broken bottles, there were bloated limbs and the occasional head, frozen in its last contorted gasp of life. They were empty husks, their skins saggy and hollow like deflated balloons. A snapshot of my future.

  My stomach churned. I spun around and banged on the sliding door. “You have to let me out of here!”

  I banged on the steel door with my fist until it was red and aching. “Fuck!”

  I leant my head against the wall. What the hell am I going to do?

  An odd gurgle echoed from behind. I turned around and scanned the bodies. “Is someone else in here? Hello?”

  Emerging from behind the tent was a pale dismembered hand clenched between the mouth of a wrinkled old lady. The woman had long sweaty gray hair with patches of red blood stains. Her eyes were yellow and her nose was scrunched like a vicious wolf. She crouched on the ground, hunched and hobbled, her arms hanging between her legs. She dropped the limb from her mouth, swallowing back a piece of flesh. She pulled her dinner closer to her and growled at me.

  “Trust me,” I said. “I don’t want any.”

  She growled louder this time and then barked. What was wrong with this woman? I got the sense she was telling me to get lost. To leave her to her tasty human limb. Fine by me. I stayed where I was, halfway across the hangar from her. But she didn’t stop staring. She didn’t blink. She growled and bared her teeth.

  “I don’t want any trouble,” I said. “I’m going over this way. I’ll leave you alone, if—”

  She hissed, spit flinging from her teeth. She rushed towards me and jumped, fingernails out, ready to claw my face off. I lifted my foot and kicked her right in the stomach. She fell onto the pavement. She rolled over on the floor, got back up, and ran at me again. This time I kicked her in the head.

  “Fuck off lady,” I said.

  I ran from the door. The woman’s heavy panting encouraged me to run faster. I spun round and she was already halfway in the air, claws out. She dug her sharp nails into my shoulders and pushed me on the ground. Her sweaty blood drenched hair fell into my face along with her spit and bile. Drool dripped onto my cheeks as her lips opened wide for a big chomp of my flesh. I grabbed her neck and pushed her away.

  She caught hold of my arm and pinned it to the floor. She did the same with the other. The woman’s strength was overpowering. I kicked her, but she used her feet to keep my legs down. She had me trapped. Her hot breath poured down on my face. She licked her teeth with her tongue, readying herself for her fresh meal.

  I was zombie chow-mein.

  I closed my eyes, waiting to be eaten alive when a burst of machine gun fire echoed across the hangar. The deranged woman wailed in pain, shrieking. She collapsed onto my chest. Her body was sticky and warm. I pushed her off and scrambled to my feet.

  What the hell was going on?

  Back by the hangar entrance was a guard in a gas mask holding an assault rifle. I recognized his rough voice straightaway.

  “Mr. Hopewell,” said the guard. “Someone very important has alternative plans for your future.”

  2

  “Alternative plans,” I grumbled. “After you left me here to fucking die?”

  I ran at him across the corpse-strewn floor, ready to body tackle him to the ground. When I got close enough to grab him, he spun on the heel of his rubber boots, and knocked my head with his elbow, bashing me to the floor. He grabbed my shirt collar and dragged me through the door back into the shed.

  “You son of a—”

  The soldier grabbed my wrist and twisted my arm. He paralyzed me in his grip. “We were following protocol. They’d send me in
there if I refused to do my job.”

  He let go and I stumbled to the floor.

  “Be happy you’re out. I’ve never seen anyone sent in there come back.”

  I stood up and wiped the lingering zombie drool off my face with the collar of my shirt. “What the hell is going on? People aren’t just dying of ZERO in there. Something worse is—”

  “Preach it to someone else. I don’t care. I’m following orders. Now put that on.” He pointed to a white plastic suit on the ground.

  “What the—”

  “It’s a quarantine suit. Nothing you breathe in or out leaves that suit. It’s an insurance policy. Now put it on.”

  I still wanted to punch this guy, but I did what he said. I picked up the suit, unzipped it, and stepped inside. It took me a moment to wiggle my legs through, but it worked. The soldier came up behind and zipped the back of the suit closed, including the air lock which kept my infected breath from spreading.

  The soldier then pulled off his backpack and handed it to me. It was an oxygen tank with a bendable hose. It attached itself to the clear plastic face mask of my suit. I screwed it in and lifted my arms up at the guard.