by Wolfe Locke
I remember shaking my head in disappointment. In that moment, it seemed to me that Barry had caught a bad case of being a little bitch. It was a little anticlimactic to me that after all of that, Len and Barry weren’t even going to try to fight for their lives. What was the point? It just seemed so pathetic. Something about it just didn’t sit right with me and put me on edge. At the time, I had thought it was irritation towards how this Barry seemed to just give up without any more fight. It would seem to me if you were going to die anyway, laying down like a dog ready to die was a piss poor way to go out.
“You made the right decision,” the Alpha Ashley responded, not unkindly, as Len stepped forward. “Now kneel. I’ll need a clean cut to make sure this is instant.” Len looked on in horror as his friend knelt down in front of the woman, ready to die as the rest of the Ashleys grouped up around Len, katanas ready to cut him down prematurely if he moved or did anything hasty. Barry turned to give Len one last look and asked the unthinkable with tears in his eyes, “Don’t let me die alone. We came into this together, we can end it that way too. It’s ok. It’ll only take a second, she promised.”
Barry looked up at the Alpha, “Will you let him through, so we can go together? He’s been my best friend for a long time.”
I had to look away for a moment; it seemed a bit much to me. Touching even, but I hated watching like some sort of voyeur unable to even scream at Barry to do something besides let himself be killed. I don’t care if you’ve been friends forever, at the least try to get him out of here, do something. Fight, for fuck’s sake.
The woman rubbed her chin in consideration as she looked around, seeking approval from the rest of the Ashleys before agreeing. “That’s fine, but no more hesitation; we’ve got a battle to get back to. Bring the friend over.”
Two of the Ashleys stepped forward and quickly subdued the unarmed Len. It was the first time I had the thought, Why is he unarmed? What is he? A mage? Is that even a thing? The answer was only partially revealed with time, but mostly it really was just him being inept. That was the problem with those nerd types. Give them a little bit of magic power, and suddenly they forgot that they had these wonderful things called hands, and what a person could do with them.
It was just barely that I caught the words muttered under Barry’s breath as the Ashleys dumped the barely-conscious body of his friend next to him. “Fall.” That could only mean one thing, and I looked up to see that all the mist that had risen into the air had formed into long icicles. Icicles that hung suspended above our little portion of the battlefield. Icicles that glinted with edges as sharp as knives. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for! Finally, a chance to sweep.
None of the Ashleys caught the sudden shift in the air, or in the battle, as the icicles began to fall, and too late did I realize I’d missed some subtle changes as well. The falling icicles covered a much larger area than I had thought, covering far more than just the area around the melted ice fortress. They rained down in a deadly hail, each icicle impaling the Ashleys in multiple spots before they could even react.
The deadly blades of ice made quick work of the group, killing every single one of them in a matter of seconds. I could only stare as the Alpha caught one of the icicles through her eye and as she fell backward, I thought her look of shocked surprise met mine as the icicle passed through her brain and nailed her to the ground. It was one of the most horrible things I had seen up to this point. Highly effective and extremely brutal.
I felt before I saw one of the icicles impale itself into my quad. I was just as surprised as the Alpha had been to find that the icicles had started raining down on me too. It was then that I noticed I had caught Barry’s attention as he gave me a slight head nod combined with a shrug as he pulled an icicle out of one of the Ashleys and used it to finish off one of the girls who was still lingering at death’s door, struggling to remain alive. What a cheeky fucker.
It may have been a bit slow, but I realized then that this was not my moment, this was not my time to shine. It was my time to run away and hide and find somebody else to mess with because this guy was beyond me. I didn’t make it far. I tried to run away, I really did, but I was a lot slower than I thought I’d be at my level. Apparently, putting all of my points into strength wasn’t the great decision I had imagined it to be. Pain erupted from my neck as I looked down and saw I too had been impaled by an icicle, followed by another, and then another. Did Barry gloat? Loot my corpse? Betray Len? I had no idea. All I got was a lousy message.
Notification: You have died.
Details: Current placement for Edgelord Supreme: 81/100 for Battle Arena #5. Total ranking: 956/1000.
You have not reached the minimum threshold to be granted a bronze ability token.
You will now respawn in location “My Room.”
Chapter 23: There and Back Again
Notification: Dan Hanson, alias “Edgelord Supreme,” has been killed by the participant known as “Barry the Iceman.”
Respawn location “My Room” is currently linked to accommodation “Meet and Eats,” located within the Battery.
The numbers haunted me, mocking me. I’d been scored as 81 out of 100 and 956th out of 1000. Any way you sliced it or tried to explain it, those were dismal and pathetic numbers. My showing had not only been weak, but it had also been downright shameful and highlighted some of my mistakes, mistakes that had contributed to my most recent death. The only reason I was standing today to tell the story was because of the ability I possessed that allowed me to respawn, an ability that only I and a few others had.
“God fucking damn it,” I screamed as soon as I regained consciousness. This was becoming a new normal; I just wasn’t good enough. Being comfortably wrapped up in blankets and sheets did nothing to quell my anger as my inner rage monster decided to raise his head. Of the actual monster Napoleon, I didn’t see any hint of it.
In a haze of red, I ripped the blankets off myself and got out of bed. I wasn’t sure if you would call it making any sense, since I was the only person there, but it was the closest I could think of to describe my behavior. I wasn’t just the guy who died, I was the guy who basically came in last place, a loser. And to my surprise, that pissed me off. Something like that would have never bothered me before. To clarify, I meant my place in the competition rather than being upset about dying. Never before had I been competitive like that.
I ripped through my room like family violence in the trailer park, punching a hole through the drywall and slamming all the trash off my desk, the computer too, before lifting the whole desk and flipping it over.
One of the drawers flew open and out flew a bag of dark chocolates and for a moment every feeling of anger and rage I had abated. I actually laughed when I realized what it was. I grabbed the bag of dark chocolate and helped myself to every single serving.
I sat down at the foot of my bed to think and enjoy the chocolates. Alright, so respawning isn’t entirely terrible. If the room is going to revert back to how it was when I first woke up when the apocalypse started, I’ll always have a fresh supply of chocolate, and lucky enough, the piss and puke from the bender I went on aren’t part of the deal. Honestly, it wasn’t a bad deal, and while I wasn’t sure at the time what I still had, I was sure I could probably scrounge up some supplies I’d hidden in the closet in a go-pack in case of a rainy day.
Having calmed down, I surveyed the damage to the room and hoped that it would be a while before I was back in this spot. I was pretty sure it would reset the next time I died, but I wasn’t in any sort of hurry to test the theory. I glanced out the window and though I thought it was probably midday, the sky outside remained dark. In my brief absence, nothing about this world of mine seemed to have changed.
I put the desk back in place and hopped on it, wanting to get a look outside to see if my undead neighbors had respawned as well. It wasn’t much of a reach thought-wise; if the room reset, why wouldn’t the nearby monsters? I breathed a sigh of relief when I sa
w that the street was largely devoid of the undead, except further in the distance where some still milled around that I’d need to work my way through if I decided to branch out and hunt.
It was still pretty jarring to see the stack of bodies, my bodies, bloated and festering in the front yard. There was just something about seeing yourself in various states of decomposition that made a guy very uncomfortable. I’ll need to handle that one and give them all a resting place.
“Lirai, can you give me some critique of how I did, so maybe I can do better in the future? When’s my next chance to try again? When does the next round start?” I needed to know. I hated losing and didn’t want to lose again.
Notification: Query - Performance Report - Black Tournament - Decimation Series.
Details: Overall Performance Score: Poor.
While under the alias of “Edgelord Supreme,” you managed to engage a total of 11 participants, and only killed 1, while still managing to sustain a damaging injury to the leg. The course of intervention should include a proper assessment of threats and non-commitment to unknown factors until the proper analysis has been performed. The 8 females who shared the “One of Us” trait should not have been engaged and the ice mage was able to conceal his abilities until it was too late for retreat. This appears to be an underestimation of the capabilities and abilities of other humans, which should be addressed.
The Black Tournament will be rehosted in the future as participants increase in strength. The Decimation Series is still ongoing, with a total of 635 participants remaining, spread across 7 battlefields after the most recent consolidation.
“Ok, thanks, Lirai. That’ll be all.” I had to cut the AI off; I know I had asked for some help and wanted answers, but not like this. Call me old-school, but I was hoping for a partial answer, not a lecture. I could work to start improving. At the very least I had six months to focus on my own growth before I could try again.
It starts with me going back out to the streets and grinding for experience, so I’ll have to make it a priority. It might take a while, but that’s the only way I am going to improve. I grabbed my jacket and the bat and headed out the door of my room. I was ready to start killing the undead in my neighborhood and do a better job of power leveling this time.
But instead of the door opening out to my street, it opened elsewhere, something I probably should have expected, even though it surprised me. I thought back to all those prompts I’d received about “My Room” being bound to me.
Notification: Now Entering - “The Battery” - Location - “Meet and Eats” - Current Exit - The Head.
When I stepped through that door, it wasn’t into my ruined living room leading out into my neighborhood. The door opened up into what I thought might be some sort of otherworldly tavern full of laughing patrons. By otherworldly, I mean I saw massive minotaurs, horned demon-looking people, cyclopses, a few rough-looking humans, vampires, a few ghouls, some hawk people. You get the idea. A who’s who of the cryptid. None of whom had noticed me stepping through the door, all of their attention seeming to be fixated on a screen playing in the middle of a room that was showing recaps from the fight. The fight that I had just lost.
Chapter 24: The Bar Above the Battlefield
Imagine it, me standing there with one hand on the door to my room, while I was looking out at a literal bar on the other side. I had to do quite a few double takes; it confused me. I could still see the street I’d known all my life through the window. It was weird, but not the weirdest part of my day. I hesitated for a second, before breathing deep and stepping out, leaving safety behind. Fuck it.
It wasn’t a tavern at all. At least not a fantasy type of tavern. It was actually more than a little jarring to see what had obviously been a repurposed sports bar full of demi-humans, monsters, and humans celebrating and tossing back shots to the carnage below. A carnage that even then was playing a highlight reel above the bar. From what I gathered, it wasn’t a live feed of the kills straight from the arena, it was on a delay.
As soon as I was out in the hall, I saw a sign that said “Meet and Eats” but it was crossed out in red paint that glowed with arcane energy that read “The Reprieve.” Oh, it is repurposed. I’d never been to Meet and Eats myself, or enjoyed any of its offerings, but I made a vow that I still haven’t made good on that if one ever came back online, I’d go there. In the before times, prior to the end of the world, I just couldn’t justify paying extra for fries, burgers, and window shopping.
“Lirai, why am I here?” I tried to keep my voice low, not wanting to draw attention. If the last bit of time before my respawn had taught me anything, it was that I wasn’t quite as awesome as I had led myself to believe. I’d been drinking too much of my own Kool-Aid, and that was never a good thing.
Notification: Query - Why am I here? *Localizing Language - Intent “Explanation of current location, not general.”
Details: You are currently at the Reprieve as it is the only location within the Battery that offers accommodations for Humans. Having a bound spawn point replaces all possible accommodations for you with that of location “My Room.” The location “My Room” is permanently anchored to your person and your home of record.
A horrifying thought hit me, one that spoke volumes of a dark and lonely future.
“Lirai, is it possible to go into any room other than my own? I know you said I could bring allies into my room, but what about vice versa?”
Notification: Query - Possibility of Alternative Lodging.
Details: You are currently unable to secure or enter alternative lodging. Alternative lodging or improvements to location “My Room” can only occur once you have gained ample skill in home decor, restoration, carpentry, or join a guild and enter a guildmate’s or other ally’s lodging.
“So basically, no one night stands unless they don’t mind that I’m a trash panda. Fantastic.” It wasn’t self-pity, it was more like resigning myself to a future so sexless that I could probably put on a purity ring and start claiming my status as a born-again virgin.
I needed to clear my thoughts after that revelation. Or rather muddy them up. Call it personal vanity, call it the blind arrogance of youthful recklessness, if you can call anything on the wrong side of twenty-five youthful, but whatever you wanted to call it, I had it. I walked over to the bar where the screen was playing the highlights. The bar itself wasn’t as packed as I first thought when I stepped through the door of my room.
Don’t get me wrong, I knew it was a bar, but beyond that, it was hard to guess. The world had undergone some drastic changes that made me second guess a lot of my assumptions. One of the assumptions I didn’t second guess was that bars serve drinks, and I needed one. In a room full of demi-humans and would-be try-hards, I was hoping to remain under the radar. There was no point in borrowing trouble and I needed to figure out my next step.
At the bar, I cheered along with the rest of them when some try-hard calling himself “The Dark One” was decapitated by a one-off fireball. It was for the best that way, because when I turned to look at the door that led away from my room, the door was gone. Instead, I saw a different door with a sign hanging over the front of it that read “Men’s Restroom.” That’s probably why no one batted an eye over me suddenly appearing. Or, alternatively, nobody gave a shit because they, like me, just want to get blasted and watch a fight.
As comforting as I found the neon lights advertising my favorite flavors of American piss, I struggled to resist the urge to scream as I went to try to place an order. I was just barely able to stutter out “Jack and Coke” from memory without trying to crawl into some dark hole and hide when the bartender turned to look at me and ask what I wanted.
It’s more common now, but that was my first face to face encounter with a demi-human. Sure, I’d already killed a few of the undead, but those weren’t demi-humans, just dead people, and sure, the room was full of demi-humans, but I hadn’t actually gotten close to any of them. Regardless, this was no ordina
ry demi-human. I mean sure, from the front she was gorgeous, at least an 8 on the 10-scale, which made her a solid 10 on the apocalypse scale, but once I was right in front of her and got a side view, the truth came out.
I did my best to not look horrified and scared when what I thought was a person turned to me asking with actual words, “What’ll it be?” I stammered out the answer, I did, and when the Jack and Coke arrived, I’m pretty sure I just drank it like a shot. I know, I know, shameful right? Get on with it? What’s the matter with the bartender? Nothing, I promise, I’ve friends that are demi-humans.
She was an Arachnes. I didn’t know the word at the time; all I saw was a half-human, half-spider monster. I couldn’t unsee that, even if I would have tipped the good old proverbial fedora at her human side. I knew better; she wasn’t human. She was still half-spider, and half-spider is too spider for me. I’ve tried to burn a house down over less.
“Hey, my eyes are up here.” She had caught me looking, and while I wasn’t ogling the lady bits, I was staring a little too hard at the parts that made me cringe. If I hadn’t known better, that would have been the time to start screaming, and instead, I managed a stiff and forced, “Sorry about that,” as she put my drink in front of me.