by Wolfe Locke
Those dead eyes, animated with reddest crimson looked directly at him with a hunger to consume and ran at him, I can’t fight something like that. As if to emphasize the point, John saw that frozen puddles of dark sludge was left in the monster’s wake.
John looked for an escape and found none in the cavern, only a sense of impending dread and doom knowing this was an enemy beyond him. Even then, something within him snapped.
The animal part of his brain took control as the human part retreated. Wielding his twin axes, John attacked. With a furious lunge, he ran forward and met the monster head on with a slash of his weapon. The blows landed true, leaving deep cuts in the bone that wept black and green ooze, but the monster persisted, and a spear of darkness shot out from its underbelly and stabbed him through the torso. A ruinous injury that John could not shrug off.
I can’t quit now. John felt immense pain but refused to admit defeat. With a bloody cough, he countered and attacked one of the monster’s heels. It was a vicious hit with the twin axes that tore through flesh and sinew as the Nightmare Chimera’s hind leg snapped off. For a moment the monster was left momentarily hobbled.
It was only a momentary reprieve, as the black ooze seemed to shift and reorganize itself in a way that allowed the monster to get moving, and it did. But John was already on the move as well, a trail of dark blood left behind him.
You are dying, John Younger, after how far you’ve come Reach my statue and bond with me, it is the only way for you to survive.
It was hard for him to breathe. I can’t argue with that logic. I’ll die otherwise. He took off in a dead sprint that quickly taxed the rest of his body. Every step agony as more and more of the bone spears erupted through his torso. Had he been a lesser man, he would have died running, but John was not a lesser man.
With a hand stretched out, John reached Aeon’s statue, and in flash of light found himself transported within the statue while he looked down at a body that took his place, the body of Marcus Lumiere.
The Nightmare Chimera howled but did not approach. Instead, the monster seemed to work on finding its way out. It can’t get me here.
No, it cannot John, but neither can we reach out. Your body is too far damaged for me to give you my power, instead we must bide our time and heal while you acquire more power within me. I cannot leave this place without a living host, and as you are right now our bonding with kill you.
No. One day we will hunt these false gods and purge them and all who tend to them in a cleansing purge.
And what of me? John asked, feeling sleepy as he tried to move and found himself unable to. What about me? How long do we have to wait?
I only need your body John. It’s time for you to sleep. When you wake, it will be in a new age. Rest now John, you have earned it.
The Genesis Game
Beginnings
A Dark Dungeon Realm LitRPG
By Wolfe Locke
Chapter 1: Emergence Day
"Hey, Dad," said Luca, his voice tired and bored after his morning at school. "How much longer is this going to be? We've been stuck on the road forever, and I still have to do my homework. Mr. Spicer will kill me if I don’t turn in that history report. He’s already extended the deadline twice."
Paul chuckled.
"Don't be dramatic, kiddo; he's not going to kill you. He might call me up and give me a stern talking to about my duty as a parent to make sure you're doing the homework he assigns you, but that's about the extent of it. Besides, I know how good you are with computers; I’m sure you won’t have any trouble knocking out that report as soon as we get home."
Crossing his arms in the back, Luca sulked down into the seat. He was ready to get out of the car.
"Well, Dad, what about my physical therapy appointment? You know Doctor Murphy says I might be able to walk again if I'm doing everything I'm supposed to. "
Paul looked back at Luca through the rearview mirror, a sad smile on his face. "That’s right, kiddo. With a lot of grit, determination, and a little elbow grease, you’ll be ready by Prom to take one of those girls you're interested in as a date to the dance."
Luca didn’t say anything in response, choosing to glare at Paul instead. Thinking to himself, Dad should know better. I hate it when he teases me about the girls. "Whatever you say, Dad. How much longer is it going to be? I don’t want to miss another appointment."
With an excessive amount of showmanship and a silent wish to whoever might be listening for patience, Paul unlocked his phone. He turned on the GPS application, wanting to show Luca what Paul could judge for himself just by looking out the window.
On the screen of the phone, the GPS showed every route displayed in red. Instead of the 10 minutes it should have taken them to reach their home, the GPS was showing estimates in the hours. The road had become a parking lot, and they were stuck on it.
"Here, kiddo," Paul said, turning toward Luca and tossing him the phone with the GPS navigation screen still loaded.
"When you’re done looking at traffic, feel free to go ahead and stream a movie; I'm not worried about you eating through all my data. It looks like we're not going anywhere for a while. Maybe you should go ahead and pull up something up on the web for your report. That might help, right?"
"Alright. Thanks, Dad. Yeah, I’ll do that. I’m sure I can pull up a lot about the historical significances of crows during the early formation of the Kingdoms of Ancient Britannia," Luca sarcastically responded as he started to flip through the streaming service for something to watch, completely ignoring his dad’s idea.
Confused, Paul turned in his seat, the belt across his chest straining, and asked, "Wait a second, kiddo. What exactly is your history report on again?"
Luca shook his head. "It’s a joke, Dad. I have to do a report on George Washington Carver. You might know him as the guy who invented peanut butter, but what he should be known for was his work to prevent hundreds of thousands from starving during the reconstruction."
That’s not really any better, thought Paul. His face held a grimace. A grimace he tried not to let his son see. "Alright, kiddo, I’m sure you’ve got that down. Just let me know if you need any help."
They sat in silence without talking to each other for at least an hour as Luca stared, entrapped by the glowing screen as his eyes remained peeled to the movie he was watching. The boy was completely unaware of the world around him. Paul frowned as he heard the sounds of screaming and gunfire. I really need to put some child safeguards on my stuff.
Taking his eyes off the unmoving traffic all around them, Paul turned around again. "Hey, kiddo, what exactly are you watching back there," Paul asked, concerned by the sounds of violence he was hearing.
"I'm watching the History Channel, Dad; it’s a video on the Reconstruction of the South. I’ve got closed captioning turned on. That way, the noise won’t bother you," Luca responded, his voice edged with a little bit of attitude, something which immensely infuriated Paul.
"Hey Luca, you need to watch your tone with me. I don't need any of that attitude you’re trying to test me with right now. I was kind enough to let you use my phone, so you can go ahead and turn it down or turn it off," Paul replied forcibly. Patience, be patient with him.
Paul made an executive decision to ignore his son’s continued disrespect as Luca, with an exaggerated sigh, made a show of being unable to turn down the phone.
As he did, Luca muttered in a bitter low tone, quietly but still intentionally loud enough for Paul to hear, "I wish you had died instead of Mom."
Memories of Marie flashed in his head. Images of the woman he had loved and lost. Black hair with an easy crooked smile, the smell of lavender, and chamomile. Infectious perfect laughter, a memory of a woman known for her kindness. With a sad expression, Paul turned back around to focus on the road and his thoughts. Me too, kiddo, me too.
The sound
of gunfire and screaming started back up again, only this time louder. Why is he testing me today? Paul turned around angrily and shouted, "Didn't I tell you to turn that down. Just what the hell are you watching anyway??"
"It's not me, Dad. See?" responded Luca, the tone of his voice matching Paul’s as he held up the phone in frustration, the mute icon highlighted as the video of a speaker at a museum outside of Atlanta played.
Nearby, the sound of glass breaking tore Paul’s attention away from the argument with his son. "Did you hear that? What's that sound? Luca, you need to stay here and keep the doors locked unless I tell you otherwise. Don’t move, don’t speak, and turn that video off and stay off the phone. Just be ready to call emergency services if anything happens."
Paul opened up the door of the car and looked around, his nerves steadied by his concern for his son as parental instincts kicked in. That desire, that innate need, to make sure his child wasn't in danger.
He looked down the road but couldn’t see anything. There were simply too many cars and trucks making up a wall in front of him, obscuring his vision. Paul walked, trying to maneuver himself a bit to try and investigate the source of the disturbance.
As he moved, Paul saw he wasn’t the only one that had gotten out of his car to investigate the noise. He walked straight past many other men and women who were doing the exact same thing that he was. All of them had the same expression of unease that Paul imagined he had. Anxiety and worry reflected on his face.
All around him, more and more people began to leave their cars as the noise began to grow closer. Everyone was trying to figure out what exactly was going on. Too late did Paul realize something terrible must have happened, that something must have gone horribly wrong in the world.
That feeling in his gut magnified a thousand-fold when he was finally able to make out moving silhouettes down the road. Those are people, he corrected himself as he saw panicked men and women running in a dead sprint, headed their direction. They were running as if Hell followed behind them.
"What the hell is that," Paul muttered to himself as he saw the hunched black figures of large dogs with eyes glowing red. A red that he could see clear as day even from this distance. The hellish canines were bounding down the highway, effortlessly outrunning and outpacing the terrified sprinters. "Oh, shit."
Paul watched as one of the black dogs caught up to one of the sprinters and bit into the calf of the man’s leg. The man collapsed into a terrified, sobbing heap as the beast dragged him away from view behind a truck. Nothing good is happening over there. A blood-curling scream followed that was quickly silenced as the animal or whatever it was mauled and murdered the fallen figure.
I don’t know how or why, but these things are monsters. Paul was surprised when he saw it didn’t take long for the beast to finish what it was doing and get back on the road, mere seconds. With bloody jaws, it ran back into view and started to run down the highway with the rest of its pack.
Each of the monstrous canines were quickly bringing down more of the running people. Paul noticed that each time a sprinter was taken or fell, none of the others stopped to try and assist those who fell behind. Their frantic and desperate fear let Paul know everything he needed to know about the situation. I need to get Luca out of here now, even then, we might not make it, but we need to try.
Running as fast as he could back to the car, Paul began pounding on the locked door. He groaned in frustration as he looked through the window and saw the boy had returned to watching videos on the cellphone. Paul beat against the window harder, needing to get his son’s attention.
Startled, Luca looked up as Paul started screaming. "We need to get out of here; we have to go now. Start unbuckling yourself. It is not safe here!" Even as he screamed the orders, Paul was moving around to the back of the car to pull out Luca’s wheelchair. He knew they couldn’t stay where they were, but without the wheelchair, they wouldn’t be able to move fast enough, and they needed to move now.
Paul struggled to pull the bulky wheelchair out of the back of the car. When he finally got it free, he looked through the rearview window at Luca, who wasn’t doing any of the things Paul had asked of him. Screaming, Paul demanded an answer. "What are you waiting for? We need to move now. Hurry up and unstrap yourself. We have to go. Do you not see those things?"
But from Luca, all Paul could see as he came around to the rear passenger door were eyes wide with terror, fixated entirely on the approaching pack of monsters. The boy registered them as monsters and the things of his nightmares. With tears in his eyes, Luca responded, "I’m not going anywhere, Dad. I just can’t; I’m scared. Please, just get back in the car; we will be ok if you just get back in the car. Don’t make me go out there. I can’t go out there; don’t make me. Just get in. We can lock the doors. We will be ok."
Paul recognized what was going on, the boy was nearly hysterical from terror, and while Paul understood that, they didn’t have time for it. He opened Luca’s door and started trying to undo his son's straps so he could muscle him into the wheelchair and be on their way.
However, the entire time Paul struggled with the straps, Luca was resisting, pushing Paul away. Luca’s resistance was making it that much more challenging to get out of there, both of them burning through precious time that they didn’t have. Eventually, Paul was able to get Luca out of the car seat, but by then, they were out of time.
During their struggle, the pack of the monstrous dogs had come closer. Moving faster than Paul had predicted, close enough that Paul was able to get a much better look at the animals. They had black fur that seemed slick with oil. As they struggled, the monsters came closer. Anyone could see they had a long set jaw with razor-sharp teeth. Their eyes were gleaming with an evil energy, something straight out of a horror movie.
From an almost-impossible distance, Paul watched as the lead of the black horrors jumped at him, landing on its haunches, drool running down its fangs. Paul knew for him and his son, there would be no escape.
Quickly he picked Luca up out of the wheelchair and threw him back in the car on the floorboards. Lacking space and time, Paul was unable to slam the door shut, choosing instead the only option he had. To cover his son Luca with his body and shield him from the monster, gritting his teeth and trying as he could to resist screaming as the thing bit into him and tore into his flesh.
When Paul finally died, the last drop of his life’s blood spilling on the floor, the monsters walked away. Showing no interest in eating him, only in death and raw aggression. Beneath his lifeless form, Luca remained alive, protected by sacrifice, and horrified, staring into those eyes affixed directly at him in death.
Chapter 2: To Help The Helpless
Luca’s mind snapped from trauma, forcing the boy to disconnect from reality. He was stuck in place; staring into the unblinking eyes of his dead father was more than Luca could bear.
Bile rose in his stomach as Luca turned his head and vomited. His terror kept him immobilized, even as blood and vomit pooled around him. That fear was helping to keep him alive, forcing him to choke back his sobs and tears, lest he to his ultimate detriment draw attention to himself.
Eventually, after an unknown amount of hours, Luca stopped noticing the smell; Luca’s senses had become deadened to it.
Silent tears rolled down Luca's cheeks as he silently screamed and raged in his mind. Unable and unwilling to use his voice, fearing the monsters would return.
Luca feared the dark and whatever other dread secrets it hid. Even the phone he carried was no longer working, the battery dead, and the service having disconnected long before.
Lucas was spinning out of control as his thoughts raced. Desperation settled into Luca as he tried to wake himself from the nightmare he was in. Each time he opened his eyes, the terrible reminder of his fate remained as did his internal screaming. No, no, no. You can’t be dead, Dad. I need you. Please, Dad, wake up.
As his body began to shake from fear and nerves, Luca tried unsuccessfu
lly to escape into the recesses of his mind. Compartmentalizing himself, picturing he was anywhere else but inside the car. But even in his imagination, Luca could not find an escape. All he could see was his father’s dead and lifeless eyes staring at him.
Luca snapped his eyes open, reality, unfortunately, grounding him, even as he mentally pleaded. Dad, please, you have to be ok. Luca willed and wished for his dad to say something. Still, no matter how badly he wanted and needed his father to be with him, guiding him, helping him, and protecting him, nothing changed. Paul’s eyes remained unmoving.
In his heart, Luca knew that no amount of wishing would bring his father back to life. Guilt weighed heavily on his conscience. On some level, Luca knew he bore part of the responsibility for his dad having been killed.
If he had not been afraid, if he had just gone with his father and tried to escape without fighting him over it, his father would still be alive. If Luca had not had a disability, they would have both been able to get away to safety.
Hours passed as the day became night. All the while, Luca remained trapped where he was, unwilling to try and move out from beneath his grim hiding place. Throughout the dead of night, Luca would fall asleep periodically in short but miserable bursts. His arms cold, freezing as his body shivered from the chill of the night. The only mercy granted him was that the relative heat of summer prevented him from dying of exposure. Or that the storm Luca had seen early on the horizon never hit him.
