Kaiju- Battlefield Surgeon

by Matt Dinniman

  I don’t think I can even look at her, Duke, Mary had said, when I first broached the subject. She killed my son. She killed our son.

  That’s not fair, I’d replied.

  I watched Mary throw herself onto her bed, crying. Ruth stormed out onto the street, swearing under her breath. Later, I watched, helpless, as she approached a group of men at a bus stop.

  Don’t do it, don’t do it.

  “Hey, any of you guys got…”

  The feed cut off for the day. I screamed, banging my hands against the wall.

  I tried not to think of it as I went back to work on my trap. I tried, but I couldn’t concentrate. Falling into the fire was no worse than this.

  Still, I had work to do. I couldn’t use anything in the base for supplies, so I’d climbed out and waded through the river, picking out random bits of bone and long, stringy ropes that I believed to be dead parasites. The earthworm-like husks were fat and stretchy, more like gummy worms than real ones. I had to be careful not to even brush up against the crabs, or they’d swarm. I’d throw the bits up through the open door and pull myself back in when the intestine swayed low enough for me to grab at the entranceway.

  My hands shook as I finished the cage, wrapping the sinewy worms around the bone. I was obsessed with that 24-hour countdown, but maybe it would be better if I didn’t watch at all. There was nothing I could do, and watching the pain of my wife and child was just making it worse. Much worse.

  I’d found that the crabs loved the food from the food boxes. I’d tossed a pear down into the muck, and they’d eaten it in seconds. With that knowledge, I’d built three crab traps. The first was much too weak, and even though I’d managed to entrap two of the bird skull monsters, they’d ripped their way out in seconds. The second trap was built twice as strong, and they still managed to claw their way out.

  This was my third attempt, and if they could break out of this one before I hauled it up, this whole venture was useless. Anything sturdier would be too heavy.

  This time the human food box provided a bunch of grapes. I tossed a few of them into the bone trap and dropped the whole thing over the edge of the doorway and into the river of effluent, all connected to a rope of tied-together tapeworm corpses.

  The crabs swarmed the trap. I pulled, dragging the makeshift line back up. Crabs cascaded off the box, but as I managed to wrangle it back through the doorway, I had five of the little fuckers trapped within, all desperately attempting to get out.

  I hauled the box into the room and popped the top off. I smashed the crabs one by one with my boot as they swarmed out of the cage.

  Level Up!

  You are now Level 2.

  Upgrades Available.

  Yes!

  I repeated the process multiple times. By the time I was level five, the crabs had stopped giving any noticeable experience at all. They still gave a good jolt of soul power, though. They also became wary of the trap.

  In theory, Anatoly couldn’t see my level. I had to use that to my advantage.

  I needed to hide the trap, but I didn’t want to just toss it. I jumped back down into the river, giving the crabs a wide berth. Luckily their aggro wasn’t activated. The underside of the base was pocked and pitted, like the slimy walls of a tidal cave. I found a good nook and shoved the cage in as far as it could go. Something screamed in the distance, sounding surprisingly-human, making me work faster. I didn’t know if it would stay when Bast was in one of his more active moods, but it was the best I could do.

  Shivering and dripping with monster shit, I scrambled back into the apartment. I needed to pick my upgrades.

  Chapter 9

  Upon level-up, I could finally access the Upgrades tab. I spent some time poring over the menu. I had multiple options, and I needed to make an informed decision.

  Each time I leveled up, I received a single point I could add to my base stats, and I received three skill tree points I could add to my spells or skills. I had four base points and twelve skill tree points to spend. The base points were straightforward. I had five different base stats: Strength, Acumen, Durability, Deftness, and Charm.

  As a worm surgeon, I started off with a base of twelve for acumen, ten for strength and deftness, an eight for durability, and a five for charm. As an artist, I received a three-point boost to charm and a one-point boost to deftness. Apparently there were some other benefits as well, but they were skill-based, and I currently didn’t have any of the appropriate skills.

  As a result, my current stats were as follows:

  Strength: 10

  Acumen: 12

  Durability: 8

  Deftness: 11

  Charm: 8

  My initial instinct was to pile the points into durability, which had a direct effect on my ability to consume damage before I died. The more durable I was, the better my chances of making it out of Bast. On the other hand, if I raised my acumen, I could store more soul points. As long as I was quick with my healing, point-for-point, it was probably a more efficient use of my stats. Charm was useless for now.

  Deftness, this game’s version of agility, was a bit of a wildcard. If I ever managed to get a gun or a ranged weapon, this was probably an important stat. Plus my ability to sneak around unseen required a high deftness.

  Something else was nagging at me. Anatoly had really wanted me to stay away from strength-based skills and players. Strength only really mattered once I started dealing in melee combat, but why didn’t he want me to have it? In other, well-established games, it was easy to make decisions because I could read up extensively on what skill did what. Here, it was all guesswork. Once you spent a point, you couldn’t take it back.

  I decided to look through the spells and skills before I made a decision.

  I started with spells. The descriptions in this menu were more extensive than in the main spell menu, which I thought was odd. This whole game had the feeling of someone who cared more about the aesthetics of the world than the under-the-hood stuff required to make a good game great. It still felt beta, unfinished and unrefined, like the actual game stuff was a burden on the system. While I thought the streamlined HUD was great, I didn’t like the inefficiency of the way the menus stacked.

  I also noticed that spell cost was always a percentage, not numbers. If I adjusted my Acumen up, those percentages went down as my total soul points went up. But if I leveled-up a spell, the percentages would go up. It was kind of an odd way to do it. It made it so you didn’t have to think so hard when you were casting spells off the cuff, but it also was confusing to me in terms of power and levels. I preferred hard numbers.

  I currently had two spells: Reconstitute—which was my heal spell and Upcycle. The Upcycle spell had been unclear to me. I read the description three times before I realized what it was saying:

  Allows for the caster to swap out body parts, which may have an effect on certain stats, skills, and magic abilities. Warning: a durability of 15, the Scalpel spell, and the Wicked Meat skill are recommended before attempting an Upcycle. Successful Upcycles are permanent changes to your body and will persist even upon death. Spell unlocks at level 40.

  If the spell unlocked at level 40, why did I have it now? Weird. Did that mean I wouldn’t be able to use it? It seemed like I could. I’d tried it before, and it had triggered, but it gave me a warning that I didn’t have all the necessary materials.

  More importantly, it seemed like the spell allowed me to physically upgrade myself. But how did I get the replacement parts?

  I couldn't choose the Wicked Meat skill, whatever that did, but I did have the ability to pick Scalpel. It cost five skill points. I read the description.

  Transforms dominant hand into an adjustable, physical cutting or fighting tool. Total damage is based on Acumen, spell level, and Strength. Costs 7.3% of soul points per minute Scalpel is active. Spell upgrades increase sharpness, damage, and blade durability. Warning: breaking of the Scalpel results in amputation.

  Not to be confused with
the Incision surgical talent, which is a guided cutting process

  An offensive spell! I had multiple other spells I could choose, and I read through them all. I didn’t have any ranged attack spells. Not yet. Each time I leveled up, a few additional spells appeared, but the names of the level 6 and above couldn’t be drilled down to the descriptions. I saw once I hit level 10, the floodgates would be opened, giving me access to a hundred different spells. Most of the ones now seemed to be movement and survival-based. There were a few tracking spells and a fast travel spell. There was a spell to start a fire. There were also a few defensive spells. One that hardened the skin, one that apparently made you so ugly, human-based opponents were scared of you. There was a spell that removed the skin off a defeated creature, which was gross but not so uncommon. This game seemed to have a small crafting element.

  At first, I was interested in the fast travel spell, but it looked like it could only take me back to my respawn. So it was useless. The real movement spell was Teleport, and I couldn’t get that until I was level 12.

  I definitely wanted the Scalpel spell, but I moved over to the skills menu. The main difference between skills and spells was that skills were either passive—meaning they were always active—or they didn’t require any soul points to utilize.

  Like with the spells, the skills were mostly survival, hunting, and movement-based. It seemed worm surgeons had several tracking-themed quests early in the game. One skill in particular, however, caught my eye.

  Gross Anatomy. Adds the minimap and full-screen map to your menu during deep dive surgery in guardians other than the Shrill. Higher levels increase map detail.

  A map would be extremely useful. It cost five skill points.

  Another skill caught my eye. It had unlocked at level five and also cost five skill points.

  Grappling Hook. Especially useful in deep-dive situations. Transforms non-dominant hand into a retractable grappling hook. Higher levels increase distance and the ability to grasp with more efficiency. This is a bionic upgrade. Bionic upgrades require a visit to a Chicken and Waffles and Upgrades location.

  I wanted that grappling hook, but it looked like I wouldn’t be able to get it while I was stuck in here.

  I’d learned long ago that sometimes it was best not to blow your skill points as soon as you got them, but I decided to spend ten of my twelve right now. I gave myself the Scalpel spell and the Gross Anatomy skill.

  The moment I chose the mapping skill, a 3D, cube-shaped map appeared in my upper right vision. If I focused on it, I could either increase its size or twist it around. I spun the map around a few times, zooming in and out. It was low in detail, showing tunnels and passageways. It labeled some, but not all, of the body parts. It also showed the location of the giant train parasites and other internal issues with Bast, which I would need to know if I wanted to heal the kaiju. Also, if I zoomed all the way out, I could see the current shape of the monster and what it was doing. Bast was curled up like a cat, sleeping. Its tentacles waved above its bulk, each reaching dozens of meters into the air.

  Before I moved back to the base stats menu, I took a quick peek at my surgery menu. This was the third menu of skills, spells, whatever they were, though it appeared you gained these abilities whether you wanted them or not. There seemed to be a leveling system for them also, but it was separate from the regular leveling. My antiparasitic and cauterize talents had leveled on their own even though I hadn’t used them. Before I only had two surgical talents: Antiparasitic and Cauterize. Now I had two more:

  Antiparasitic: level 2

  Cauterize: level 2

  Incision: level 1

  Lance: level 1

  I would explore those later. I was pretty sure I could only use them on designated parts of the kaiju.

  I went back to base stats. Unlike skill points, it was usually wise to use your stat points as soon as possible—as long as you had a solid long-term upgrade plan. There was no point in hoarding them, and I needed to decide what to do.

  I wanted access to that Upcycle spell, which meant I needed to up my durability. But I also had this gut feeling about strength, that it would be useful. It went against my usually well-thought-out upgrade plans, but this early on in a game a few points thrown in the wrong direction usually weren’t that big of a deal. I didn’t think I was wrong though.

  “Tank build it is,” I muttered. I added three points to durability and one to strength. I didn’t feel any stronger after, but my life bar grew. So at the end of my upgrades, I looked like this:

  Strength: 11

  Acumen: 12

  Durability: 11

  Deftness: 11

  Charm: 8

  The first thing I did was cast Scalpel. My right hand transformed itself into a short, gleaming blade. If I focused on the blade I could make it thinner and longer. It felt fragile in this configuration, though, and I remembered the warning about my hand amputating if it broke. I moved it back to the short, solid, and sharp configuration, like a hand-sized Xacto knife. The sensation was odd, like I suddenly lost all feeling in my palm and fingers. It would be awkward fighting with this thing, but it was better than using my feet to smash down on the crabs.

  I switched it off before I lost any more soul points.

  I needed to get back out there. I planned to explore further out now I had a map and a better weapon.

  As I prepared to leave, I was interrupted by the loud crack of someone teleporting into the center of the room.

  With a puff of smoke, three figures entered the base.

  Chapter 10

  Two players and the largest snake I had ever seen appeared before me.

  The two humanoids stared back at me as if they were just as surprised as I was. A man and a woman. Both were players. Real, actual people. The man was huge, and the woman was diminutive.

  The massive, hulking man was one of the ogres. A nerve agent. He stood almost seven feet tall, reminiscent of the half-ogre characters from Dominion of Blades, though these guys had a blue tinge to their skin and saggy, mottled jowls. His arms were each as thick as the legs of an elephant. He wore extensive, complicated leather armor that was all buckles and studs, a maze of belts and straps and the occasional tassel. My first thought was overenthusiastic BDSM gear. The note over his head read SmashSouth – Player (Level X).

  The ogre had a yellow boa constrictor coiled near his legs. The snake hissed and uncurled from the nerve agent, slithering toward the fireplace. The thing was huge, about twelve feet long, as wide around as a manhole cover. Over the snake was Familiar – Player SmashSouth.

  The woman was a fae. Her skin was ivory white, and she stood just about five feet tall, her body unnaturally thin. She wore simple, black pants, a gray, short-sleeved shirt and heavy, military-style boots. Her jet-black hair cascaded down her back. She had straight bangs that ended just above her eyes, and elf ears poked out either side of her head. She looked like a Vulcan from Star Trek going through a vampire goth stage. Clara – Player (Level X).

  “Ah yes, the artist,” SmashSouth said. He had a deep voice, but not as gravely as I would expect. “When was the last time you saw Anatoly?”

  “Please,” I said, looking between the two. Clara ignored me and rushed toward the cabinet where her food cabinet was. “You have to help me.”

  “Shut the fuck up and answer my question,” SmashSouth said.

  I stood straighter. This guy wasn’t going to help me. This was “the client.” His boa constrictor curled itself into a pile in front of the fireplace. Clara rustled about the food cabinet, not talking.

  “Which is it?” I said. “You want me to answer the question or do you want me to shut the fuck up?”

  Clara laughed, turning from her spot in the kitchen. She had what appeared to be a candy apple in her hand. She took a bite. “This one has got some sass,” she said with a mouth full of caramel and apple.

  SmashSouth growled and turned toward the wall, waving his hand. The view screen appeared but fi
zzled out. There were still twenty hours left before the timer reset. He growled again and started typing in the air.

  “He gave us administrator abilities, but I am locked out of almost everything,” he muttered. “Still, I think I… yes. I’m gonna have to reset it. Here it is.”

  The view screen snapped on. It was still on Ruth’s channel, and I caught a glimpse of the glow of a meth pipe for just a second before the screen erupted in static. Signal Lost appeared in ominous letters. SmashSouth changed the channel a few times, landing on Fox News.

  Goddamnit. Fuck. She’d been working so hard. She’d gone through withdrawal in prison and went straight to the halfway house. It’d been a year and a half since she’d used. I’d been hopeful, so damn hopeful.

  What a waste. When I got out of here, I wasn’t going to go to the police. I was going to hunt these fuckers down, every last one of them.

  I’d been so focused on my daughter that I wasn’t paying attention to what was playing on the vid. Both Clara and SmashSouth watched, riveted. I turned my attention to the screen.

  The screen showed a small, brick house, covered in snow. Men in FBI jackets and about a hundred cops milled about. Flashing lights and yellow police tape set the scene. The caption on the news screen read: Fitchburg, Massachusetts. House of Horrors.

  “…Police arrested two men in conjunction with the murders. A spokesperson for the FBI stated the arrests were part of a much larger investigation and that multiple arrests around the United States have been made with more imminent…”

  The scene changed to a backhoe ripping through the snow and dirt. It switched to two men carrying a stretcher with a sealed black bag on top.

  “…It is unclear how these arrests are connected with last night’s arrests in Fitchburg. However, the police have been able to confirm that one of the two men arrested is indeed the prime suspect for the spate of killings that terrorized central Massachusetts for the past several years. The killer, dubbed ‘Frankenstein’s Monster’ is reportedly responsible for the kidnapping and dismemberment of at least two dozen teenaged boys. The killings had stopped for over a year until last week when police discovered the body of 15-year-old Sean Walford, who’d disappeared from home earlier this year.”