Respawn: Lives 1-5 (Respawn LitRPG series Book 1)

by Arthur Stone

  Contents

  Arthur Stone

  Respawn: Lives 1–5

  Chapter 1

  Life One: Short

  Chapter 2

  Life Two: Even Shorter

  Chapter 3

  Life Three: Experience is Key

  Chapter 4

  Life Three: Bar Fight

  Chapter 5

  Life Three: Stage One

  Chapter 6

  Life Three: Up on the Housetops

  Chapter 7

  Life Three: City of Monsters

  Chapter 8

  Life Four: Bridge of Wonder

  Chapter 9

  Life Four: Dwellers of the Forest

  Chapter 10

  Life Four: Kitty

  Chapter 11

  Life Four: Confrontation

  Chapter 12

  Life Five: Fools of a Feather

  Chapter 13

  Life Five: A New Name

  Chapter 14

  Life Five: Unsmooth Criminal

  Chapter 15

  Life Five: On Hold

  Chapter 16

  Life Five: Demented Digitals

  Chapter 17

  Life Five: Kitty’s Forecast

  Chapter 18

  Life Five: The Town

  Chapter 19

  Life Five: Master of the Town

  Chapter 20

  Life Five: Clearing Things Up

  Chapter 21

  Life Five: The Founder Without Morals

  Chapter 22

  Life Five: Passions of the Forest

  Chapter 23

  Life Five: Man to Man

  Chapter 24

  Life Five: Rivers and Riversides

  Chapter 25

  Life Five: Stupidly in Love

  Chapter 26

  Life Five: Night at the Dam

  Chapter 27

  Life Five: The Worst of Times

  Chapter 28

  Life Five: I Hear You Calling

  Arthur Stone

  Respawn: Lives 1–5

  Chapter 1

  Life One: Short

  Welcome to this new world, novice. This is a beautiful place full of unforgettable moments, both happy and not so happy. Remember that you have a limited number of revives, and earning more is not easy.

  You are joining the Continent. Revive location: Cluster 145-33-29. Region: West Coast. Current revives remaining: 99 lives (initial value). Active quests: Survive, Search, Learn Secret, Help, Ask Correct Question. Current status: Attempt #1. This cluster will reboot in 100 seconds. Hint: use the Menu command to open a full context menu. Use the Metrics command to view all or selected metrics in the active viewport. Examples: Metrics All or Metrics . All menu items are resizable. You may also modify their color, transparency, theme, and layout.

  Enjoy your game.

  Most dreams have little founding in logic. This one was no exception. A climb up a wide stone staircase. A few steps along slabs of the same kind of stone. The elevator doors open. Everything engulfed in a darkness black as obsidian, interrupted only by the bright burning of some short nonsensical inscription.

  What was this staircase? This impenetrable darkness? How was it that the glowing red text in his vision failed to illuminate anything but itself?

  And who was he?

  The question burned in his mind more brightly than the red text. He had no inkling of an answer for it. Every man had a name­­, he knew, but his own would not come to him.

  Where am I? Usually that one was easy to answer: Just open your eyes.

  But that didn’t help him here. He would find out many things, but not the answers to his biggest questions. He lay on a narrow bed protruding from the wall opposite the small room’s single window. The space’s modest dimensions allowed for three equally uncomfortable beds, plus a couple of nightstands and pitiful lockers. All the rest was a looted mess. You were bound to step on something with each pace, usually some piece of rotting garbage. The tasteless wallpaper was mercifully disintegrating, a dreary lamp kept vigil from under its cracked dome, and the filthy glass surfaces had been finger-decorated with two equally filthy words, plus another couple of regular words, one spelled wrong.

  It wasn’t a five-star hotel. And it certainly wasn’t home. He had never even seen the place before.

  Or perhaps he had forgotten it completely, like his name.

  His amnesia troubled him deeply now, but there was one bright spot, at least. He didn’t feel wounded or sick, and was pretty sure that a little racking of his brains would bring his memory back.

  Nope. Even an intense racking yielded nothing. Why? Something was very wrong, but what?

  All he could recall was the staircase, the stone slabs, and... No, there was nothing else. He felt like he was grasping at the shade of his memories. Nothing substantial enough to seize and remember.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and noticed some slippers off to the side. They were well-worn and a little dirty, but he remembered nothing of them. His feet shouldn’t need the help of his active memory to find them, if they were his. Habit should have located them right away. But his feet had no muscle memory of the miserable footwear.

  Perhaps someone had moved them. Or something else had happened. Or this wasn’t even his bed. Or he was losing his mind. Or maybe his legs had forgotten, just as his brain had.

  What could ever have made him forget absolutely everything? Did he remember how to speak, at least?

  He breathed and checked. “Hello.”

  The pile of wool blankets on the farthest bed moved, and a face poked out with a severe case of bedhead. The unfamiliar figure gave a hoarse reply. “Hello to you, too.”

  He failed to restrain himself, shouting, “Who are you?”

  “What? You don’t recognize me? I’m Gray.”

  “So who am I?” he asked, his intense interest painted across his expression.

  Gray pulled himself further out of the covers and stared in surprise. He had brown hair and looked to be about twenty years old, and the indiscretions of the night before showed on his face. A bouquet of several perfumes from a night of fun still hung in the air. “What are you on, Rock?” he asked at last.

  Probably not my real name, but it’s better than nothing.

  “What would I be on?”

  “How should I know? You never use anything far as I know, health nut that you are and all that. Though I haven’t seen you in ages. How are you? What’s up?”

  “Not my spirits, I can tell you that much.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t remember a thing. Not even my name.”

  “You must be high, Rock. Your eyes look good, but something’s not right. Want something for that?”

  “Fighting drugs with drugs, eh?” Rock shook his head. “So you haven’t seen me for ages, you said. When was the last time?”

  “Think it was a week ago. A fight broke out, some words were exchanged, and then you limped off somewhere, complaining about your leg again. But you looked fine. Nothing serious with your leg or anything.”

  “How do I look now? Does this count as ‘fine’?”

  “Not by a long shot. You look like I could smash you to pieces with a feather duster. How did you end up here?”

  “Huh?”

  “This place is a whole two stops away from the post-grad dorm.”

  “...post-grad?”

  “Yeah, you picked up your doctorate in what seemed like five minutes. Everyone was amazed. You live in post-grad now.”

  “Why?”

  “Nobody expected it. You’re no doctor, Rock. That’s not your
vibe.”

  “So what’s wrong with me?”

  “Nothing, but working as a TA and all that, really not your style. How you feeling now? Memory coming back now? Want to call Mommy?”

  “No, not at all, and it’s no fun. I’m a nervous wreck right now.”

  “Just chill, man. This is your old room, after all. Don’t you remember? The place where you had all those freshmen girls, and drained countless shots of alcohol, holy mother...” Gray shook his head. There must have been a lot of alcohol. “You’ve forgotten all that? How? Have you forgotten dodging the cops through that window, too? That’s what broke your leg in two, making you get those two surgeries. Or maybe more, for all I know. None of that rings a bell?”

  “No.”

  “Look, Rock, I don’t remember everything myself, either. Especially not how I got back here. You’ll never believe it, but I passed Prof Dunderhead’s test on my first try. Can’t believe my luck. After that, me and Max and Seagull went over to Bull’s place to celebrate. You know Bull. He’s always got something new going on. I don’t remember what I did after that. How I managed to crawl back here. And I don’t remember seeing you here yesterday. Where’s Max?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Just keep it simple, OK­—my head is spinning from all this about dorms and degrees and Maxes and Seagulls.”

  “You really lost, ain’t you. What are you on?”

  “A bed, obviously.”

  “No, no, I mean, did you take anything? And who gave you whatever you took?”

  “You from the FDA or something?”

  “Just want to help you figure things out, Rock. It’s not every day a man forgets everything. You got to be on something heavy, man. Is there anything you remember?”

  “I remember stairs.”

  “OK. What else?”

  “Stone slabs. And this elevator, like from a rich office building. Clean corners, everything sparkling clean, brand new. And I was wearing a suit. A gray suit. Wait, where’s my stuff? There’s no way I just came here in boxers and a tee.”

  “Should be around. That it on the chair there?”

  But instead of leaning out of bed as he said this, Gray stayed under the covers, swiping his finger around the screen of a big tablet. He frowned. “Dammit, Wi-Fi’s down. Go give the router a kick, Rock.”

  “Sheesh. Guess I forgot I’m your personal slave, too.”

  “Just reset it, OK? Internet’s out. Yank the cord, wait a bit, and plug it back in. It does this. They all do. It’s over there, to your left. You remember the router, right? Picked this one out yourself, you did. We filled out those dumb ISP forms together and everything.”

  Gray still didn’t understand the situation, and Rock was getting fed up. “How many times do I have to say it? My memory is gone! I don’t remember this shit router, or those shit forms, or this shit room. I can’t even remember my own name!”

  “Oh yeah, sorry. I can’t even imagine that, not remembering anything. Just pull out the cord and put it back in, then.”

  Rock did as Gray asked. “No lights on it. Is that normal?”

  “No lights?”

  “On the router. Not a single one.”

  “No, that’s not right. Hmm.” Gray reached out and flipped a switch. “Nope. No power. Maybe everyone’s is down. Can you go check it out?”

  “Personal slave it is, then.”

  “Come on, you’re two steps from the door. Just take a peek.”

  “At what?”

  “See if the lights are on down the hall or not.”

  Of all the things Rock cared about in the world, the state of the building’s electricity was pretty low on the list. But the door was, in fact, right by him, and unlocked. He pulled it gently and found himself in a gloomy hall. He saw another guy down the way, someone who looked just like Gray in both age and appearance.

  The fellow stared at Rock and asked, “What, your power out too?”

  “Course.”

  “Looks like it’s out for everyone. What about your phone?”

  Rock looked back and asked the tablet-flicking Gray. “Man wants to know about cellular. Getting anything?”

  “I have a SIM card in my tablet. Not getting anything. Nothing on my phone, either. Find out if the water is still working, at least. Last thing between us and Stone Age conditions.”

  Rock checked with the student in the hall. “Looks like you might as well toss your phone. Nothing. Is the tap working, at least? Water flowing?”

  “How should I know? Just woke up, wanted to call my dad for his birthday, but I can’t get through. He’s the type to pull everything if I don’t call him. I’d have to make do with nothing but my stipend till the semester’s out.”

  Rock closed the door partway. “No idea about the water.”

  “I heard.”

  “Listen, maybe I should go see a doctor. I mean, who else are you supposed to go see when you lose your memory? A plumber?”

  “You’re not kidding with the whole memory thing?”

  “Maybe I should crack you on the skull so you can experience for yourself how serious I am.” Geez, this guy is dense.

  “It’s just so strange, Rock, and nothing like that ever happens to you. And you’re so, I don’t know, dismal.”

  “Wouldn’t you be?”

  “Probably, yeah, forgetting everything. You remember those guys from last night? Must be the ones who sold you whatever you took.”

  “Wish I remembered. Where can I find them now?”

  “No idea, though you can ask around. But are you kidding me? You want to go back for more?”

  “Nah. I’ve just changed my mind on smashing your skull in, so I’m going to smash theirs. Call it buyer’s remorse.”

  “No, Rock, these guys are serious. Don’t mess with them.”

  “Too serious to get their heads smashed in?”

  “I mean, anyone can be taken down, if you catch them by surprise.”

  “Sounds like heads ripe for the smashing. Ask around, would you?”

  “That’ll take some time,” warned Gray.

  “Then you find out where I can find them, what they’re about, all while I run to the doctor. Got it?”

  “Look, if you’re still on something serious, you can’t go to the doctor. They’ll ask about drugs right off the bat and take blood samples. I guess they won’t kick you out. Loco likes you, and he’s going to be the new vice chancellor, but still. No sense trying your luck.”

  “So what do you think I should do if the doctor plan is out? I feel like a vegetable, Gray. Like my head’s lost in space.”

  “Like a vacuum inside, you mean? I’ve had that happen, yeah, but without the whole memory loss thing. Look, I know one thing for sure: keep away from the doctors, or Loco might draw some, well, bad conclusions. Just take it easy for a while and it should work itself out. You’ll see. A little rest and your noggin will kick back into business as usual. And quit playing around with that stuff, alright? Why’d you ever get involved in all that, anyway, because of your break-up with Seta?”

  “Seta? Who the hell is that?”

  “Wow. You really have forgotten everything. You have to rest.”

  “There’s no way I can just lie around when I’m like this, Gray. You don’t understand what it’s like, to forget everything, even your own name. Who am I? Rock isn’t even a proper name, is it?”

  “This has got to be an overdose,” said Gray with a shake of the head. Optimism came back to his face, though, as he suggested, “Hey, you should try taking a nap.”

  “A nap? You trying to pull one over on me? That head-smashing option is still up for reconsideration, you know.”

  “Look, everybody needs some decent sleep. And I want to help you out. As one fellow human to another, at least.”

  “I have zero desire to take a nap, Gray. As if I even could.”

  “Don’t worry, I have just the solution for you.”

  Gray pulled a cardboard box out from und
er his bed and rummaged through it, then extended a pack of pills.

  “Toss a couple of these and you’ll sleep straight through till evening. Seriously, I could shoot off a cannon in here and it still wouldn’t wake you.”

  “So you think I’m on drugs, and the answer is more drugs?”

  “They’re just sleeping pills. Ordinary prescription sleeping pills. Remember Mike? You know, the one who covered himself in lipstick and ran down the hall screaming in a bad Indian accent. Remember that? Oh, no, you don’t. You’d recall that if you could recall anything. Well, get some water and take the pills and you’ll be out in five minutes flat. Just what you need.”

  Rock wasn’t at all sure sleeping would help. But sitting around here with this stranger until evening, waiting for some recollection of his past to return... No. He was not going to torture his mind any longer.

  Gray was wrong. It took Rock a little longer than five minutes. During his last few moments of consciousness, he hoped to learn some useful things about himself. He did, but not much. Rock was a graduate student of about twenty-four years old, known around town as an outstanding soccer player who was on extended—and perhaps permanent—hiatus due to a knee injury and now attempting to find his way in the field of scientific schooling. He had lived in this room for the whole of his studies. They knew he was a partier, the kind of guy who you never knew what time of day or night he’d come back to the dorm.

  Rock fell asleep before he found out what field of science he specialized in.

  And before he found out what he was really called. As Gray told him whatever truths and falsehoods he did, he avoided Rock’s real name, as if he feared that if Rock heard it instead of remembering it on his own, his memory would never find its way back.

  Something isn’t quite right here, thought Rock as he fell asleep.

  * * *

  By the time he woke, his thoughts now screamed, Something is really wrong! For a few moments, he assumed it was a nightmare. Some living being was crushing him, causing his bed to flex ponderously. An impossibly wet, disgusting, noisy mouth was working at the place between his neck and shoulder. Rock screamed in agony.

  It was biting him!

  No, not biting—gnawing, dammit! Ravenously, bloodthirstily, feasting!

  His position made it difficult to fight back. He was surprised, just coming out of sleep—unconsciousness, really—and that considerable dose of pills still suppressed his system. Thankfully, his adversary failed to make full use of its advantage. Rock managed to turn himself around, screaming as he pulled skin and muscle from the grinding jaws and elbowed his attacker off him. Robbed of its meal, the beast let out a foul grumble and began to pull itself back up. Hell no, you’re not. Rock shrank his body back and rammed his fist into the monster. His hand plunged disturbingly far, into something at once both hard and juicy.