“Heaven,” Lucian’s mother answered. “I already told you that, honey, so stop asking it. Your uncle’s in heaven, with all the angels, and your grandfather. And one day, all of us will join him. We’ll live in a big house together along the coast. It’ll be fun, you’ll see.”
Connor laughed. “I don’t know about living in a big house with you, Ma.”
“Oh, stop it, Connor. Now isn’t the time to joke about those sorts of things.”
“Okay, Gramma!” Jennifer said, returning to her toys.
“I know, I know, it just helps me process it. And to just die in his living room too…” Connor’s brow furrowed. “It hadn’t been long since I checked on him, you know. Maybe I should have stuck around longer. Maybe I should have…”
“I went through the same thing with your father. There are always regrets. But at least you were there toward the end, at least you were looking after him. I wanted him to move back here, but he wanted to be alone. You know how Lucian was.”
“I know.”
“You always were a good big brother,” she said, reaching across the table and grabbing his hand.
“Thanks, Ma.”
Lucian had to look away from the two of them for a moment. “Do you see anything?” he asked Old Death, his hand over his eyes, barely able to contain himself.
“Your mother still has sixteen years to live, and the child will be alive for a very long time,” Old Death looked down at his little black notebook. “But I do see that your brother’s death is coming soon.”
“Not that stuff, I’m talking about the parasite. You see it?” Lucian glanced back at his brother and sure enough, he saw the semi-translucent parasite on his brother’s back, a mustard color beneath its flesh.
“I don’t see anything,” Old Death said. “And trust me, if there was a parasite in this room, it would have done something to us by now.”
“You’re telling me that you can’t see this?” Lucian walked over to the parasite and pointed at it, his finger going right through it.
A troubled look came across Old Death’s face. “I’m sorry, I can’t see anything. Maybe this is what happens when Death starts to die…”
“You really can’t see anything here?”
“Nothing.”
“Have you ever heard of Deaths seeing parasites that other Deaths can’t see?”
“To be honest with you, I don’t try to keep up with any of the other ones. They are too competitive. You’ll see when you meet them, especially the ones that do most of their hunting in countries with lots of diseases. Maybe they would be the right people to ask, but not me. I usually only go after a parasite when I’m starving for power. My days of long hunts are over. Maybe that’s why I don’t see what you see.”
“Well, thanks for coming anyway,” Lucian said, turning away from his family.
“Always good to get a second opinion.” The elderly man brought his hand to his chin. “I’m sorry about your brother. Addiction really is a sad thing to watch. At least when his time comes, you can take him yourself.”
“Take him myself?” Lucian asked, his fists tensing.
“Sure, why not? Unless you want another Death to do it. It’s inevitable, you know. We are inevitable.”
Chapter Ten: Portland by the Sea
“We are inevitable,” Lucian whispered once they returned to Old Death’s home. He walked to the window, looking out at the futuristic city and watching a vehicle filled with light approach the top of a faraway rooftop.
“What is this place, anyway?”
“Just a place,” Old Death told him.
“And it’s on a different planet, right?”
Old Death sat down on the couch, kicking his legs up. Ezra appeared and curled up next to his owner. “I’ll explain it to you another day.”
“You’re just going to go to sleep?”
“Aren’t you tired?” the elderly man asked.
“I suppose I could use a recharge too,” Lucian finally said.
“Exactly,” said Old Death, “especially with the funeral you’ll likely attend tomorrow.”
Lucian was pretty sure that he went pale at hearing this.
It made sense for him to attend his own funeral, but it would only make him wish to be alive even more, and there was no telling who would actually show up.
“Later,” he mumbled, moving to his room and quietly shutting the door behind him.
Lucian thought about playing video games but went to the balcony instead, where he sat, looking out at the sparkling city below, noticing again that it always seemed to be night here.
His thoughts drifted to his brother.
It pained him that there was nothing he could do, that all he was able to do until his brother’s death date was sit back and watch.
“No,” Lucian whispered to himself.
There had to be something.
As far-fetched as it felt, he knew that there had to be something he could do.
He really needed to meet another Death, one that wasn’t on their way out like the man resting on the sofa inside. There was part of Lucian that appreciated Old Death, and how hospitable and overall relaxed he had been, but he wasn’t a very good teacher, and it seemed as if his plan was simply to sleep until he died.
It was another twenty minutes before Lucian went inside and relaxed onto his bed, his dark clothing disappearing.
The television remote took shape in his hand and he turned his TV on, scrolling to the latest season of a docuseries about the fentanyl epidemic.
Was this what his brother was using?
He watched as a drug dealer in a camouflage mask talked about fentanyl, how they were now cutting it with heroin to make the heroin stronger.
Lucian shook his head.
He’d had his fair share of pills because of his heart condition, but he couldn’t recall any of the doctors telling him they were giving him anything like fentanyl. It seemed way too powerful, and the fact that people could get high through skin contact only made the stuff worse.
He continued watching, now fascinated as the documentary crew followed a police unit trying to take down a dealer in Baltimore. “Maybe that would be a good place to level up,” Lucian whispered as the show panned to a wide shot of rowhouses, people just lying on the ground, high as hell.
It was depressing, but Lucian knew that to do anything in his new role, he needed power.
He fell asleep with the television on, a dream eventually starting up.
Lucian was in Portland, Maine, on a trip he had taken with his ex-girlfriend Katy when he was in his mid-twenties.
He stood on a cliff overlooking the water, somewhere near a sandy beach in South Portland. He was familiar with that location, but it also seemed foreign to him, a dream fabrication.
There were people walking along the beach, their dogs playing in the water and chasing each other, a few children swimming, and little green clumps of islands in the distance accented by sailboats.
Lucian turned to a large home surrounded by a wall.
The home looked old, definitely built in the 1800s by a wealthy family. From what he could see of it, the garden was well taken care of and balconies on the second floor of the home offered views of the sea.
It would be a grand place to live.
The rest of the dream faded away as soon as Lucian awoke.
His stats appeared before him.
He could tell that time had passed, yet it was still dark outside, the city lights twinkling.
After he sat up, he decided to play with the Mark System for a moment, wondering if the home he’d seen in his dreams really existed in Portland, Maine.
A map of South Portland appeared before him, not unlike one of the more popular map services available online. Lucian could mentally zoom in or out, or he could do it manually using his fingers.
He found a location that matched the one in his dream, and he was just about to go there when he decided to play with his inventory list for a moment.
The first thing he did was equip his grenade launcher. He knew that real-world physics didn’t necessarily apply here, so he was planning to increase the size of the magazine so that he could fire twelve rounds without having to reload.
He set the grenade launcher on a table that he’d instantly formed in the corner of the room.
After taking a look at the space, he pressed his hand out, his room quadrupling in size, the ceiling now three times as high as it had been just moments ago.
A firing range.
Now looking at the weapon, Lucian began to notice the components, realizing that the way he was going to use it meant that he didn’t need the sight on top. This disappeared. As he waved his hand over the weapon, its body started to bulge outward, creating a cylinder magazine that turned the same color black as the weapon.
Another grip took shape on the front of the weapon, and Lucian lifted it, aiming it into the distance.
Fwoom.
The explosion tore into the floor. Lucian immediately fixed the damage he’d caused and ignored Old Death’s yelling at him from the other room.
As he had predicted, the grenade launcher didn’t fire like a bullet, but he wasn’t planning to use it that way to begin with. This weapon was purely for destruction, so next time he was in a hallway with parasites lunging at him, Lucian could simply equip it and start firing off rounds.
The fact that he couldn’t kill himself, and that he didn’t need to be precise, only made the weapons he could create more interesting.
His grenade launcher modified, Lucian ran his hand through the air, and a whip appeared on the table.
He wanted something that would allow him to strike an enemy, and possibly latch onto a tentacle and rip it off.
There would need to be a small amount of sentience to his new weapon as well.
With this in mind, Lucian started to press life into the whip he had created, spikes taking shape on the other side of the whip.
The spikes curled and opened.
With a quick nod, two targets appeared, the same plastic torso dummies he used to box against back when he used to go to the gym.
A smile formed on Lucian’s face as he whipped the first dummy, the tail end of his weapon wrapping around the dummy’s face and ripping it off.
“I like it,” Lucian said.
He shifted his stance and struck the other dummy. This time the whip went straight through its chest and came out the other end.
“Where did I think of you from?” he said to himself as he looked at the weapon, trying to recall which video game he’d taken this from.
It definitely had an old school Castlevania vibe, but he was pretty sure it was from a newer game than that.
Lucian looked up at the ceiling, forming a bar to latch onto. He tossed the whip up, latched onto the bar and swung forward with a kick into another dummy that had appeared.
Sure, it wasn’t a move he would probably pull every day, but it was good to know that he could use it like a “hookshot” in a way, even if he could simply defy gravity.
The whip disappeared, heading back to his inventory list.
Lucian was about to play around with more firearms when a thought occurred.
He looked down at his own hand, wondering if it was even possible. He turned his fingers to his face, watching a set of nasty claws start to grow, his fingers thickening, his wrists pulsating.
He decided to see how sharp they were.
Approaching the wall, Lucian brought his hand back and scraped his fingernails against it, the nails cutting deep into the brick.
He nodded, impressed, and with a wave of his hand the wall returned to the way it had looked before he clawed it.
He could modify his own body as well, which could make things more interesting if he could…
The ends of Lucian’s black shirt began to grow, the fabric pooling onto the floor as if he were sopping wet.
He sent all the fabric racing forward toward one of the dummies, a sharpened bit of it stabbing the dummy in the forehead.
From there, he used the fabric to lift himself and lower his own body, like he was standing on top of a wave.
“So sick,” he whispered to himself as he thought of Portland, Maine.
It would be a quick trip, and perhaps he would be able to hunt something while he was there as well.
Lucian needed to see if this place actually existed, if there truly was an old home by the sea.
But before he pinched his thumb and pinky finger together, Lucian checked his stats, to see how much of his power he had used in his little crafting session.
It hadn’t been too costly, but he was also keenly aware that it would take more Soul Points if he really wanted to edge toward OP, and that was exactly what Lucian wanted to do.
There was no point in being weak now that he was Death.
Maybe with more power, Lucian could finally do something to that parasite that had latched itself onto his brother.
Lucian had been on the beach before.
There was a thunderstorm rolling in, black clouds in the distance, but it was still peaceful on the beach.
Lucian took a few steps closer to the water, letting the tide come all the way up to his shins, the water having no effect on him.
He still didn’t quite understand the physics of being Death.
How did some things adhere to his understanding of physics, and others didn’t, especially when he fought something? What happened to people nearby when he engaged a parasite?
Lucian was never big into alternative theories of reality, but if anyone had asked him at that moment, he would have surmised that Death existed on a different plane, or perhaps in a different dimension which was able to still interact with the earthly realm, yet not actually affecting what living beings saw.
Except for cats.
Lucian watched the seagull dip into the water and come back out, squawking as other seagulls joined it. He turned to his right, noticing the cliff he had seen from his dream, a house not far from the edge of the sea.
Lucian gladly took the path that led up to the space, and once he reached the soft green grass at its top, he turned back to the water. He noticed an old man sitting on the bench, looking out at the islands beyond, docked sailboats to the man’s left.
Name: Brandon Clark
Date of Birth: 12/14/1961
Date of Death: 02/28/2018
Lucian shook his head as his new whip took shape in his hand. The parasite that was attached to the man was big enough to stretch several feet away from his body, its caterpillar-like tail curled, a spike on its end.
An eye began to rise from the parasite’s body, spotting Lucian.
Spiked spider legs tore out of the parasite’s body, stabbing into the ground and giving it leverage to lift its tail, short, T-rex-like arms appearing along its body.
A hole opened on the tip of its tail.
Before Lucian could get his weapon up, a barbed tongue struck him in the chest, dragging him toward the parasite. He started to fight back almost immediately, his whip all but useless.
He went for his claws instead, his hands enlarging and fingernails growing as his weapon disappeared. Lucian latched onto the tongue and ripped in half, a mist of blood spraying in front of him.
He pivoted to one foot as a tentacle shot forward.
Still wanting to test out his new weapon, his whip reappeared in his hand, and Lucian snapped it at the top of the parasite’s body.
The spikes on the end grew large enough to take off the parasite’s tail, the monster hissing and screeching as it doubled over in pain, barbs growing from its back like that of a hedgehog.
“That’s not going to stop me,” Lucian said as his grenade launcher appeared in his hand.
It was with true glee that he fired a grenade at the now unprotected parasite, the cylinder on his weapon clicking.
Fwoom!
The first grenade took the parasite by surprise, forcing it to loosen up some. By t
he second it was done for, its protective barrier ripped to shreds, the third and fourth grenade sealing the deal.
An energy rose into the air, spiraling upward and funneling into Lucian as the parasite died, leaving a stain of blood on the grass.
He lowered his grenade launcher, the item returning to his inventory list.
As casually as ever, Lucian walked around the bench and took a seat next to the old man, looking out at the sea.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” Lucian asked.
The expression on the old man’s face was blank, the guy clearly lost in his thoughts, his hands trembling a little. Lucian felt for him at that moment. He felt the urge to let him know that it would be okay, even if this was a lie.
Of course, the old man wouldn’t be able to hear him, so rather than say anything, Lucian simply kept him company.
As he had before, Lucian wondered when the guy would actually die. He thought about trailing him for a moment, but then remembered he wanted to check back in with Lisa, to see if she was still alive.
His stats appeared before him, and just as he expected, Lucian had gained another Soul Point. He also hadn’t really expended too much in the fight against the parasite.
He still wished there was a way for him to classify these parasites, but once he got more familiar with them, maybe that was something he’d be able to do.
Lucian also wondered about Old Death, and how many parasites he had actually killed.
There really was no telling.
“I know you are there,” the old man said suddenly, still looking out at the sea.
Lucian was startled; it took him a moment to form his next question. “You can see me?”
“I know you’re there,” the old man said again, licking his lips and shaking his head. “You have been following me around for too damn long. But soon I will join you, Steve, soon I will join you.”
Steve? Lucian watched the man bring his hand to his eyes, and wipe away a tear. “I don’t know how much longer,” he mumbled, “but hopefully soon. Hopefully real soon.”
“So you can’t hear me?” Lucian asked.
“And I’m ready to come home,” the old man growled. “Goddamn ready.”
Death's Mantle: A Dark Fantasy GameLit Novel Page 7