Dungeon Crawler Carl Book 2

by DoctorHepa

  Zev: Oh my gods, Carl. The net is going crazy. Only a few people understand what you just did. But word is getting out. Your numbers are just going up and up. It’s amazing. Both of these dramas playing out at the same time.

  Carl: Zev. Are you listening? This is important.

  Zev: Yes, yes. I’m sorry. Go ahead.

  Carl: To the producers of the program Vengeance of the Daughter. I just poisoned Grimaldi. Even though he’s an elite, I suspect you’re going to let him die. I know this is all part of your plan. This is Signet’s story, not his. The title of the program says it all. This is just the first act, the origin story. This is really about her getting down to the Hunting Grounds and fucking up those High Elves and maybe the Naiads, too.

  I also suspect that as soon as Mr. Grimaldi here dies, all hell is going to break loose. And when that happens, I will probably die. That’s also part of your plan, isn’t it? I’m looking at the three poles right now, and I can see how you’ve set this shit up. That center pole isn’t going anywhere. But that third pole looks like it’s made out of popsicle sticks. Just a little push, and it’s timbeeerrr. Hell, that thing will probably break on its own when Grimaldi dies.

  You don’t really need all three poles broken, do you? One will be enough for whatever plan you and your writers have. I’m spitballing here, but maybe a rip in the tent that’ll allow Signet access? Of course, this would be after I’m dead. That’s all you’re expecting out of me, isn’t it? You’re serving your viewers something amazing either way. If I do it. Awesome. If I fail. Tragic. And no matter what, your program is drowning in viewers.

  I have an offer for you. If you want these ratings to continue, I suggest you listen carefully.

  This is what I’m proposing. I know you can’t help me in any way. That’s against the rules, and the last thing we want is to draw the ire of the system AI. But I want to be on your show. As a regular. If Donut and I both happen to survive past tonight, and I make it to the sixth floor, I will sign an exclusive agreement to only complete elite-themed quests on the sixth floor that are directly associated with Vengeance of the Daughter.

  Look at the ratings you’re experiencing right now. I am told that new programs such as yours rarely receive anything like this. Most fail right out the gate. You probably went out of your way to place this circus near me and Donut in the hopes we’d stumble upon it. Now imagine the ratings if we continued to participate in this storyline.

  You have thirty seconds after the end of this message to agree. If you do not agree, I am going to cut my hand again, and I am going to give Grimaldi here some of my healthy blood. And you know what that means. And after I’ve un-poisoned the vine, I am going to sit here for the rest of the night and enjoy the show. Nothing will happen, though I might spout some of these theories out loud. Signet won’t get inside. Your special guest star’s appearance will be a dud. After all this buildup, people will be pissed. It’ll be Geraldo and Al Capone’s vault all over again. You probably don’t know what that means. Translation. Nobody will watch this shitty-ass show ever again.

  But if you agree, I have a plan. A good fucking plan that people won’t stop talking about. But I’m not going to attempt it without a deal.

  Zev: This is not what we discussed.

  Carl: Send it now. Quick before he dies.

  Zev: They already heard it. My boss patched them in. We’re waiting for their response now.

  Out on the arena, nothing changed. Down at the bottom of the bleachers, Apollon the ice cream-selling strongman looked up at me, and we met eyes.

  Zev: Okay, they’re no longer listening. It’s a deal. They say, and I quote, “Let’s see what you got for us, Crawler. If your stupid ass can get out of this, we look forward to working with you in the future.”

  Carl: You’re our agent, Zev. I want this to be official. On paper. Or whatever you guys do.

  Zev: Don’t worry about that. It’s official. I have the power to sign on your behalf.

  Carl: That’s terrifying, Zev. Okay, they’re about to be pissed off. If they ask, tell them I know what I’m doing.

  Zev: Do you?

  Carl: Fuck no. I’m making this shit up as I go along.

  With that, I once again cut open my hand, and I dripped the blood on the root, healing the boss monster. Again, nothing changed. I had no idea if it would’ve worked or not, but at least for now, I wasn’t going to find out. I stood and walked down the bleachers, approaching the strongman.

  As I walked down the stairs, I pulled up my inventory and found the Wisp Armor spellbook. I’d been holding onto it because it appeared to be super valuable, and I wanted to sell it. Donut asked me about once a day if she could have it, and I’d almost relented a few times. It was a magic protection spell, and it would be useful to her. But at the same time, I was supposed to be our party’s tank. I needed protection, too. I wanted to wait until I saw what sort of spells were available at the magic shop first before I decided what to do.

  But I no longer had the luxury of waiting. I read the book’s description again.

  Wisp Armor

  Cost: 5 Mana

  Target: Self Only

  Duration: 5 minutes + 1 minute per level of spell. Requires 5 minute cooldown.

  Surrounds your body with tendrils of light. While ineffective against physical attacks, this spell negates 75% of incoming damage from magic-based attacks. Provides temporary immunity to mind-control effects. Higher skill levels increase both effectiveness and duration. It also makes you look all wispy and ethereal and druid-like. A great spell to have if you’re a club kid or trying to bang a vegan.

  I activated the book and added the spell to my hotlist. Because of that Heal spell I’d cast earlier, I had to take a mana regen potion to bring my available magic points back up to five. My mana regenerated faster than it had before, but it was still maddeningly slow.

  I approached Apollon.

  “Hey there buddy,” I said. “You got any of them there ice cream cones left?”

  “Yes,” Apollon said. The large, muscular ogre moved slowly but with deliberate ease. I wondered how strong he really was. I hoped I wouldn’t have to find out. He pulled out the mass of worms on a rotten cone, and he handed it to me. “Compliments of Grimaldi,” he said.

  I looked at the wriggling mass of worms on the rock-hard cone. I cast Wisp Armor on myself. A six-minute timer appeared as sparkling lights started to twirl around me like a swarm of comets. I opened my mouth.

  Like the sign said, no chewing was necessary. The worms glided right in, entering my mouth and sliding down my throat.

  I met eyes with the ogre, who just looked at me. Even he seemed shocked I’d just done that.

  You have been infested with a parasite!

  “Delicious,” I squeaked as I tried not to vomit.

  * * *

  Do not worry. You are one of us now.

  Yes, love. We will not feed you to the clowns. We don’t feed family to the clowns.

  One of us, Carl. One of us. Gooble Gobble, Gooble Gobble.

  We see your memories.

  We are you. You are us.

  The words spoke in my mind as I stumbled toward the exit. I felt them in my gut, writhing, expanding, growing. The Clammy Clown moved aside as I pushed through the exit.

  No, Carl. We have use of you, and it is not safe for you out there. Papa Grimaldi cannot regenerate you like the others. She will kill us. She will kill you. You are special. No. Why do you not stop?

  Something shifted in my gut. The worms stiffened, grew more rigid.

  Carl.

  This was a new voice. It wasn’t the all-voices-at-once of the parasites. This was Grimaldi.

  Carl. No.

  “Can you hear me?” I gasped. When I spoke, I felt the still-growing infestation enter my throat, like I’d swallowed a string that wouldn’t go away. I gagged. I felt the ends of the worms growing up into my mouth.

  Carl, I can hear you. Our minds are one. I know what you are doing. Come
back. Please, come back.

  I felt the mental tug that attempted to get me to stop, but thanks to my Wisp Armor’s ability to negate mind-control effects, I still had autonomy over myself, but only for the next five minutes.

  Despite the protection of the spell, my brain felt odd, disconnected from the rest of my body, like I was in a room with a constantly-dimming light.

  This is what it’s like to go crazy, I thought. To lose control.

  No, Grimaldi answered. No, son. This is nothing like that.

  I ran back out into the night. Signet stood right there at the exit. She was polishing a spot on the massive calliope. The tattoos had all returned to her flesh. Had I really been in there that long?

  “Carl!” she said, surprised. “I thought…” She examined me, her eyes narrowing. The flashing lights continued to swirl about me. She raised her hands, and they started to glow yellow.

  “Wait,” I said.

  “This is who you send, Redstone?” Signet called, raising her voice. She spoke with an odd mix of anger. “He’s not even in the family.”

  “Wait,” I said again. “I’m not Grimaldi, but he can hear you. I’ve been infected, but this spell is keeping them from taking full control.”

  Signet lowered her hands. “You didn’t knock the poles down,” she finally said.

  “No,” I said. “It wasn’t going to work.”

  “I’m going to have to kill you, Carl. You won’t be able to keep the infestation at bay for much longer.”

  “Listen. We only have a few minutes. When was the last time you two talked? It’s clear you love this goddamned circus. That’s why you attack it every night. You’re trying to free them from this. And you, Grimaldi. I know your brain is a jumble. If it’s anything like mine is right now, I can only imagine what you were going through when this thing happened. But somehow, of all of your family, the only one who escaped was Signet. You did that, didn’t you? You protected her somehow. Because you love her. And now, hundreds of years later, you two assholes are trying to murder each other even though you want the same thing. You want to protect your family.”

  The worms in my throat surged into my mouth. The sensation was like I was suddenly vomiting. “She hurts the family. She has turned her back,” I croaked.

  Fucking hell. They’d physically forced me to say it. I felt blood start to drool down the side of my mouth. My throat felt as if I’d swallowed razors.

  “Don’t do that,” I gasped. “Holy shit. Just think it, and I’ll say it out loud.”

  “My brothers and sisters are suffering,” Signet said. “The clowns have been transformed into these things. They kill those who they used to entertain. And you facilitate it, Redstone. You have a kind heart. You’re protecting them because they’re family. But they wouldn’t want this. They would want it to end, and you know it.”

  “Please,” I said. “Please, Grimaldi. Listen to her. Look, if you truly know my memories, then you know why I’m here. I went into that fucked up circus tent because I was trying to protect my family. When I killed that bear and freed her from this, I saw it in her eyes. She was grateful. And you know it. Every time those clowns eat someone, their soul is dying just a little bit more. This entire world is nothing but death and hopelessness, and I am starting to lose it, man. Signet says you used to be kind. I need, we all need, some of that kindness right now. I get the sense this Over City was a pretty bleak place even before the cataclysm. You were the joy that the people needed. But now you’re killing them. And worst of all, you are killing the one you tried to protect the most. Signet shouldn’t be here in this place. She has business down below in the Hunting Grounds, and you are keeping her from it. You are her family, and she will not leave until this is done. You can change that.”

  A moment passed. My timer was at less than a minute. I prepared the double healing potion, the one Mordecai had mixed last night. He insisted it would cure me of a parasitic infestation.

  Come on you assholes, I thought. Surely the producers of this ridiculous drama could see the bone I just threw them. Hopefully they had enough control of Grimaldi to take the bait.

  No, no, no, I thought as I felt the worms surge back into my mouth.

  “I have un-banished you, my love,” I growled.

  I slammed onto the potion, and I fell to my knees and started vomiting a never-ending stream of dead and dying worms onto the ground.

  Signet started to walk toward the entrance.

  “Wait,” I called, still coughing. “Wait. You need to free Donut.”

  “Your friend will awaken when the sun rises. Do not worry.” She paused. “Thank you, Carl. I do not know if we will cross paths again” She turned and entered the tent.

  As the flap opened, and she stepped into the mouth of the giant clown, I smelled it one last time. The scent of the big top. It was but a fleeting hint of that scent, and the moment it was gone I knew I would never smell it again. I’d lost something today, but if this story with the circus had a relatively happy ending, I knew I’d gained something as well.

  I suddenly remembered something else about that day at the circus with my mom. One of the items we’d taken home from the show had been a pair of little sapling trees with the roots wrapped in nets. That was something this circus always did. They gave little trees to all the kids. My mom and I had planted those trees in my grandparent’s backyard. Years later, long after my grandparents had died, I’d looked up that house on the internet, and I looked at the satellite images of the backyard. The trees were still there, and they were already huge.

  All it takes is a little seed, my mom had said that day as we planted the trees. Just little seeds here and there, and soon enough you have a forest.

  While Signet’s story was only just beginning, I knew my part in this particular chapter of Vengeance of the Daughter was now done. Whatever was about to go down in there, it no longer concerned me.

  I felt a slight pang that’d I’d missed out on my chance to solo-kill a city boss, but I was certain I wouldn’t have survived the experience. Besides, I’d done something much more productive.

  The seeds were planted. The roots were already beginning to dig.

  You will not break me. Fuck you all.

  Quest Completed. The Show Must Go On.

  A half dozen achievements passed by, landing into my inbox. I’d jumped from level 15 to 18. Another wave of nausea swept over me, and I resumed heaving piles of dead worms onto the ground.

  Something Zev had said had been bothering me for several minutes, and now that my mind was finally starting to clear, it made me jump to my feet.

  It’s amazing. Both of these dramas playing out at the same time.

  Both of these dramas? What was the second one?

  Mordecai: Carl. Donut’s health just dropped below 20%. Go. Go now.

  A note from DoctorHepa

  I hope everyone had a great weekend! Stay safe. Call your family if you're separated. Pet your dog.

  Chapter 59

  I hurtled through the abandoned city.

  I started about a mile and a half away from the old building where Signet lived. The neighborhood map’s view of the local mobs ended just one street before. I avoided the scattered monsters. There weren’t many in this area, but a few of them appeared to be large and fast.

  Mordecai: Donut’s Cockroach skill just activated. She went down to zero, but it kept her alive. She’s now at five percent.

  I rushed into the street, turning and running straight for the building’s entrance. Several dots populated the map. In her unconscious state, I couldn’t see Donut’s dot, but I was relieved to see the orange dot of Mongo in the center of the room. He was surrounded by about 10 red dots and a metric shitload of Xs.

  As I approached, two more monsters appeared, coming from the around a far corner as they rolled toward the open building. They were squat and black and covered in spikes, each about as tall as my knee. They moved like tumbleweeds. A mighty roar emanated from the building, dee
p and loud. A moment later, two of the round monsters flew out the door and bounced off the street. I formed a fist and pushed into the darkened chaos. I couldn’t see shit. I pulled a torch into my left hand, lit it, and tossed it into the room.

  “Mongo, I’m here!”

  It took my brain several moments to register the scene before me.

  Mongo had once again doubled in size. That roar had come from him. But more importantly, his health was deep in the red. He stood on the ground before the pile of garbage I’d erected around Donut, screeching in fury. Half of the defense was gone, scattered about the room, exposing the chair and Donut to the room full of monsters. Mongo stood defiantly in front of the hole, like a hockey goalie protecting the net.

  Both Donut and Mongo had been transformed into pin cushions. Each of them were filled with long, black spikes. As I watched in horror, one of the rolling, black mobs threw itself at Mongo, who leaped painfully in the air and slashed at the creature with his feet. The monster spun away, trailing gore. Mongo hit the ground, but stumbled and fell onto his side, crying. Several new spikes erupted from the dinosaur’s feet. The sleek, black spikes were about 15 inches long, and some of them had completely pierced the bottom of the pet’s foot and spewed from the top.

  I examined the properties of the mobs as I rushed toward Donut.

  Street Urchin – Level 8

  These pokey little puppies only come out at night. Long, long ago, some of the richest citizens of the Over City kept these things as pets. Their name—Street Urchin—was a source of great amusement of the privileged. They would often joke about keeping a street urchin chained up in their homes, only letting the nocturnal creatures out to feed. The small, mindless creatures could clean an entire living space in a matter of minutes. When the cataclysm came, the Street Urchins were transformed into what you see today. Larger, deadlier, and a lot spikier. And after they cleaned the corpses of their former owners, they moved into the ruins and resumed their duties as the janitor mobs of the Over City.

  The ruin’s version of a Roomba, these things only have one purpose. To remove dead bodies and any other refuse left behind by inconsiderate crawlers. They won’t bother you if you don’t bother them. But you best not get in their way.